Illegally in Love
by jc44
Summary: AH Edward left Bella on graduation day and they haven't seen eachother in eight years. Now they both have successful careers but are reunited as colleagues during a controversial trial. Will they get back together or wonder what could have been? MSK based
1. I Believe We've Met Before

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

I briskly walked over to my chair, Sam following me. Sam, my service dog began to lap up water in a mug I'd set on the floor earlier. My name was printed neatly across the countless certificates and recognitions on the walls of my office; they all stared at me, bleak and apathetic as I. I continued to observe the oppressive dark green that my walls were painted, and the inch that Sam's paws had sunken while standing on the absurdly thick Oriental rug the firm provided. Straightening the name sign on my desk - that once again printed out the words 'Edward Cullen', I let out an unnecessarily loud sigh, which caused Sam to momentarily cease his lapping to stare curiously at me.

"It's alright, boy," I murmured while stretching out a hand to ruffle his light brown fur. Almost immediately after, Jessica, my secretary buzzed in on Line 1.

I picked up the phone in a swift manner and held the receiver to my ear.

"Yes, Jessica?" I apathetically inquired. Her sharp intake of breath and brief pause of silence caused me to impatiently clear my throat.

"Oh yes, Mr. Cullen, a client is here to see you." It was incredulous that this woman still fantasized about me, after months of her working under my employment. Did she have no professionalism? A moment later, a thin girl just beginning to knock on puberty's door glided into my office. I straightened the jacket of my suit and spoke in an irritated tone,

"I don't represent minors." This was ridiculous. What was this naïve child doing in my office? I was immediately bothered that this girl had the nerve to waste my time with Girl Scout cookies, I was far too busy to succumb to such nonsense.

"I don't like cookies either," I quipped. I flicked a nonexistent dust particle off the cuff of my jacket and raised my chin a fraction of an inch to look at her for the first time. I saw her petite yet round face immediately go from timid to angered in a matter of seconds; her pale blue eyes narrowing, accompanied by the creasing of her forehead matted with plain, light brown hair.

"Do you like _anything_?" Her voice, hardened, questioned. She crossed her arms and began to drum her fingertips against the sides of her torso. I almost expected her to begin tapping her foot along with steam rolling out of her ears – like most angry women. I laughed internally at the thought. How cynical had I become?

No emotion washed over my face, as I responded, "No." I had things to do. Didn't she have things to do? Like baking cookies or whatever it is girls her age did. I was in a dire need to call Alice back; Jessica had left me a note saying she called five times. Five. Yet, I suppose it is logical deeming that my sister is hyperactive and overzealous about even the pettiest things in life. I should be phoning her now but _this_ was sitting in my office.

"What's your dog's name?" Her curious eyes now danced, yet this didn't faze me. My mind still wandered to my priorities, namely Alice because anything pertaining to snubbing her ended up in death or potentially worse.

"Sam," I nonchalantly replied as I flipped through some files in a cabinet. I flicked another nonexistent dust particle off my jacket cuff. The girl walked over to my companion and outstretched her hand as I said in an even voice,

"Don't,"

"Why?" Because you should be walking out of my office.

"He's a service dog," Now leave.

"You're not blind," She pointed out, stubbornly.

"Oh? Thank you for informing me. He tells me when people are being irritating." A smile played at the corner of her lips but in a nanosecond any trace of a smile was now miles away. She turned fully to face and looked me directly in the face. I was a bit unsettled at how deep her eyes bore into mine as she spoke softly,

"Mr. Cullen, did you really sue God?" Now it was my turn to contain a smile – a half one anyway.

"I sued the Diocese of Seattle on behalf of a client who required experimental fetal tissue, which supposedly violated Vatican II," I informed in a bored tone. There was a sliver of curiosity settled deep in the pit of my stomach as to why she wanted to know, however.

And then, her blazing eyes subdued and they turned from mine to stare at the Oriental rug. Barely audible, she squeaked, "Sir, my sister has leukemia. And-d… I-I need your help."

I felt a twinge somewhere from within my body. Was that pity? Great, Edward, you know you've reached the peak of cynicism when you can't distinguish pity from a twitch. "I'm truly sorry to hear that, but you can't just sue God because you, or your sister, got the short of end of the stick."

"N-no, i-it's not that. I want to sue my parents for the rights to my own body," She stood up straighter as she declared this, and her stammering transitioned into confidence. I raised my eyebrow an eighth of an inch.

"What's your name?"

"Elizabeth Black." She stared right at me without blinking.

"Elizabeth, you cannot seek out an attorney to litigate against your parents because they refuse to get you contraceptives," I say coolly.

In opposition, she seethes hotly, "My sister is, _has_, been dying of acute promyelocytic leukemia. You think I'm only involved psychologically because she's my dying sister, but oh, here's the catch hotshot, my parents want me to donate one of my kidneys to her," I was floored yet my face did not fall out of its frozen composition. No hospital in the country would make a girl donate an organ without voluntary consent, nor would any court. Her case held some potential wheels.

I immediately pull out a legal pad and scrawl out the date. "Continue."

Still on her mini tirade, she angrily spits out, "Cord blood as a newborn, drawn lymphocytes, three times, when she relapsed, bone marrow for a transplant, granulocytes for her infections and peripheral blood stem cells for her second relapse." I was once again rammed, but this time by her intelligence. Her medical knowledge was impeccable for that of – how old was she? Twelve? Thirteen?

"It's apparent you've donated to your sister before," I point out.

"So? No one asked for my consent." She crosses her arms once again and juts her right hip out. "I'm tired of it."

"How old are you Elizabeth?"

"Thirteen."

"Well, your parents technically don't need it – they have medical rights over you until you turn 18." I state while furiously tapping my pen against the legal pad.

"I know, that's why I want to sue them for medical emancipation." She runs her fingers through her hair. After emitting a sigh she looks directly at me again. I straighten out the name sign on my desk for the second time today and stare directly back at her.

"You realize that your sister will die if you litigate against your parents." Uncomfortable silence – not because I said the wrong thing but because I laid the truth out on a platter.

"Well… I was conceived for this. I'm tired of being useful for only one purpose – saving her time and time again." Her timid voice returns as her eyes avert from mine and dart around the room. Of course, she was conceived as a matched donor, a stem cell baby. Her trial would spark immense controversy and media coverage, yet I felt somehow obligated to represent her. Her high voice pierced through my thoughts though as she stated in a clear tone, "But I'm here, aren't I?"

After another uncomfortable round of silence, I spoke, exasperated, "I charge two-hundred an hour." Refusing to meet hers, my eyes locked on Sam's and then averted to the note Jessica neatly wrote that spilled out '_Alice called_ five_ times!!!'_

She blushed a furious shade of red and stared hard at the white mug my German Sheppard had stopped lapping out of awhile back. "Oh…"

"We'll sort it out. Maybe you can change my office light bulbs for the next year. Possibly wash the windows as well," I sighed. "Oh, and since you're only thirteen, the judge will assign you a guardian ad litem. It is a person who is trained to work with children in family court and decides what is in the child's best interests. Of course, the trial will commence if they reason so otherwise, it will just be more difficult for us to win if your guardian ad litem is sitting at the witness stand opposing the entire case."

She nodded in comprehension and directly after her face lit up as she bounded up to my desk. After scrawling her name and number onto a piece of paper, she brightly thanked me and strode out of the room. I buzz Jessica.

"Jessica, I need you to file a case with family court by tomorrow. I'm representing the girl for medical emancipation."

"Seriously? Wow. Well, okay, Mr. Cullen. I'll be sure to do that."

Elizabeth Black's flip-flops had left track marks in the Oriental rug, causing me to ponder: maybe some things are meant to stay sunken in, locked in place - not to be raised and disappear forever.

**BPOV**

"Bella, I'm telling you. You need to try this skirt on it'll go fantastically with that blouse." Rosalie stared at me, completely serious with her left hip jutted out, the black pencil skirt in her outstretched hand.

"Ugh Rose, leave me alone." I flopped down onto the loveseat and in the same second her phone began buzzing. I snatched it up from the coffee table and pursed my lips as the caller ID displayed 'Emmett'. I swiveled my head toward her and wiggled my eyebrows in a suggestive manner, indicating who it was.

She laughed freely and grabbed the phone from my palm. Before she turned to go have some privacy she gave me a stern look. "You're off the hook this time, woman."

I began to get up to venture into the kitchen to prepare dinner, for Rose couldn't cook if her life depended on it. Poor Emmett, I had no idea how he survived. I giggled at the thought and took two steps before my phone began to ring. I flipped it open without checking who it was.

"Isabella! Hello dear it's Judge Masen."

I was shocked that Judge Masen was calling me, but any thoughts of hesitance of speaking with him were immediately erased because quite frankly, I'd do anything for him. I owed him for that time he pulled some strings while I was in law school and managed to land me my current job.

"Judge Masen, how are you?"

"Fine, fine. But listen, I have a case that needs a guardian ad litem and I was wondering, well hoping, that you'd be able to help out."

"Of course. What's the information?"

Judge Masen informs me on the client's name, background information on the case and the client's family, and the attorney's name.

**…………......**

After actually wearing the skirt that Rose suggested, I was sitting in my car outside of Elizabeth Black's house. I took a deep breath and smoothed the skirt as I placed one black heel on the ground, followed by the second. Of course, the heels were compliments of Rose as well. I began grumbling to myself that heels didn't help the uncoordinated, but before I could reach the front door a tall boy of seventeen or sixteen stepped toward me.

"Are you Jacob Black?" I politely smiled.

"What's it to you? Say, you're really cute. We could always take this inside, Miss…?" The under aged brother of my client unleashed a large toothed smile at me, but I internally shivered. He smelt of whiskey and God knows what else.

"Swan. Hello, I'm Bella Swan. I'm the guardian ad litem for your sister's case." I kept the small smile on my face as I nervously shifted my weight around.

"Oh, yeah," He slurred. "My mom through a huge fit over that. You have no idea. She's been way out of it and just been with Leah at the hospital the entire time – won't come home. Whatever though, I'm glad she's not here so drives us all loco." He twirled his index finger in a circular motion near his temple, the universal sign of signifying someone's insanity, while swaying is body and rolling his eyes.

"I'm, um, well, I'm sorry to hear that. Is Elizabeth here?" I bit my lip, I habit I have when I'm uncomfortable.

"Yeah sure. She's somewhere around here… So I'll see you around Bella, baby. Aha! That rings, it's alliteration too." He grinned at me again.

I furiously blushed and nodded my head once. "Nice to meet you, Jacob." I turned around and began heading back toward my car when I heard a high voice call my name.

"You were looking for me?" I turned around to face a girl standing about five feet away from me. She had large blue eyes and thin light brown hair, which framed a small face, accompanied by a gaunt and awkward body slowly transitioning into womanhood. She cocked her head to the side, awaiting my response.

"Yes, hello Elizabeth. I'm Bella Swan, your guardian ad litem for your court case." I smiled at her and tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

She narrowed her eyes at me and crossed her arms. "What if you're going to kidnap me like they do on TV? That taught me in health that talking to strangers could potentially be burying your own grave."

I bit my lip and then pondered how I could remedy this. "You can call up my friend and ask her if I'm an axe murderer."

She gave a close-lipped smile and took my phone from the palm of my hand. I gave her Rose's number and a couple of rings later, she picked up.

"Hi, this is Elizabeth Black," The girl greeted. "Oh, fine thanks. Yes, I was just wondering if Bella Swan has any track record of kidnapping and murdering."

Even I could hear Rose's laughter reverberating from the phone. I had to muster a giggle back myself.

"Okay, thank you." Elizabeth snapped the phone shut, handed it back to me and skipped to my car.

"Cool. Let's go drive somewhere," She trilled.

**…………......**

After returning from the movie theatre with Elizabeth, I dropped her off at her house. I had learned that she was incredibly witty and intelligent, but mostly she was tired of having no life outside of saving Leah's. She wants to be a ballerina, her brother, Jacob, is completely juvenile, and her sister is her best friend. She's either going to lose her sister or herself. Elizabeth is an independent girl living a dependent life. But the ace in the hole is that her mother is a civil attorney.

I snagged a spot in the parking lot, and after locking my car and walking up to the third floor I reached his secretary's desk. I took one glance at her and clumsily ambled past her to his office door.

"Hey! You can't go in there without an appointment!" She objected. The secretary, who didn't look more than twenty-three, began to stand but I was faster than her.

"He'll be expecting me." I muttered and turned the handle of the door.

I strode into his office and let my heels sink into the Oriental rug splayed across the floor. I crossed my arms and looked at Edward Cullen. He had his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows, his left hand holding a phone to his ear and his right furiously scribbling something onto a legal pad. His teeth were gritted and he was speaking into the phone in an irritable tone. After slamming it down, he emitted a sigh and ran his hand through his gorgeous bronze locks. The locks that I'd wanted to run my hands through, to kiss…

"Edward." I greeted, coolly. He froze in place. His head snapped up and I had to suppress a gasp. His emerald green eyes, beautiful as ever, stared at me. But they weren't the twinkling eyes I once knew. They were now vacuous and dull – frozen over; just like him. We stared at one another before I bit my lip and looked away. He slowly rose and that's when I noticed the dog sitting next to him.

"Bella." He responds, just as cold.

I nod toward the dog. "Since when have you taken a liking to canines?" I want to ask him a thousand more questions. Eight years full of questions. Did he still play the piano? Did he ever donate that ridiculous CD collection he owned?

"It's a service dog," He states sourly. "I have SARS, he tells me how many people I infect."

I can't help but smile a bit. At this, he relaxes and runs his hand through his hair again. My stomach drops and the urge to smooth his cheek, to kiss his jaw line, to do _anything _overwhelms me. I immediately cross my arms again and clench my fists, but not without biting my lip. He leans against his desk and clamps on with both hands.

"Can I help you, Bella?" He inquires in a musical voice – well, what sounds like music to me. Yes, you can grab me and take me back. You can fix the pieces and we can run away…

"I'm the guardian ad litem for the Black case. Judge Masen appointed me so, I suppose it looks like we'll be working together." I scoff.

He steps around the desk and takes a few paces toward me. I avert my eyes to his dog when his voice goes soft and I snap my eyes back to his.

"Your hair is longer," He points out softly. I nearly died inside. "What have you been doing the past eight years, Bella?" Something changes in his eyes and he tilts his head to the side slightly. I notice he says my name twice in the past two questions, which sends my heart into a beating frenzy. I run my fingers through my hair, causing the small space between us to momentarily smell of strawberries.

"I went to law school. What have you been doing? Well, Edward, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd have been President by now. Or at least running the state." I knew what he'd been doing. He went to Harvard on full scholarship, moving back to Seattle to become one of Washington's top attorneys.

He gave me my favorite crooked smile and I was eighteen again.

_The Hamden School, a prestigious school designed to mold and perfect students and spit them out into the high places in the world. We were products for the country - the future lawyers, doctors and politicians. Charlie and Renee emptied their pockets and change drawers in order to send me here, purely because they wanted the best opportunities for me. It was run and occupied by superficial robots - every single one of them being wealthy and beautiful. I, however, the outcast had to throw my sloppy hair into a ponytail every morning and get myself and my shabby, non-couture bag to class. I'd straighten out my blouse and sit there nervously, watching all the gorgeous heirs and heiresses robotically answer in perfection. I was sick of this world, sick of the people and the system. I'd do my homework at the edge of the forest everyday, just to escape. One day, I let my hair down, took my blazer off and kicked off the silver flats my best friend, Alice, lent me. I lay down and heaved a sigh, letting the sun absorb and have me. I heard a rustling sound and my eyes snapped open. Standing above me was an angel. His oddly colored bronze hair splayed about in disarray, his emerald green eyes twinkling and alive, his crooked smile holding a perfect set of white teeth, everything. All he needed was the set of wings. I gasped and blushed pink while I shot up. But then, I narrowed my eyes at him. It was Edward Cullen. He was everything I wasn't, the epitome of one of _them._ My best friend's brother._

"_What do you want?"_

_He grinned at me. "I needed some help with homework. I was wondering if you could possibly tutor me." He brushed his hand through his hair and my heart sputtered._

_I hesitated. This was probably some kind of dare. "You could probably hire a tutor with your trust fund." I was incredibly stubborn and I wouldn't change for him._

_He ignored me. "The question is, '_If you came across a horrific car accident, would you be obligated to stop?' _Even if you legally shouldn't because you could get sued." He stared at me, his eyes piercing my soul. It was quiet for a long time before I whisper,_

"_Yes. Yes, I would stop." He quietly sits down next to me and traces his fingertip against the paper. He turns to look at me and I do the same. _

"_You are so beautiful. You don't even realize, Isabella." My heart stopped, my breathing, the world. The world stopped just for the two of us._

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**Thank you for reading. I'll try to update quite frequently!**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	2. Ghosts

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

Her arms were crossed, hugging her exquisite body. Her dark brown waves framed her heart-shaped face, which was composed of roses and cream. Her eyes, in somewhat of a trance with my wall finally brought themselves to meet mine. They looked older, wiser. This was some kind of cruel joke from God, either that, or I've finally gone insane. I immediately began racking my brain as to what I did to deserve such torture, for the woman I was absolutely crazy about was standing a mere three feet from me. She stared at me, her chocolate brown pools melting my soul. I immediately realized she had asked me a question and I composed myself quickly.

"I went to Harvard, became an attorney, moved back. Now, Bella, you don't give yourself enough credit. You go to Yale undergrad full-ride, Yale Law and you spill your bleeding heart out as a guardian ad litem? At least your heart still beats," I joke. As she opens her mouth to speak I suddenly feel an urge to ask what words have escaped her mouth the past eight years. What lips have kissed that mouth… I immediately became distraught over the thought.

"Mm, what a rarity. It's not very often that lawyers keep their hearts from freezing over," She states sourly. "And how did you know where I went to school?" Damn. It's not like I could tell her I've been tracking her career.

"Judge Masen told me." I lied smoothly.

She shifts her weight and the atmosphere changes. "So, I met with Elizabeth today. Have you talked to her lately?" She stares at the ceiling.

"Other than meeting with her and her attorney mother, no."

"Thirteen-year olds are heavily influenced by their mothers and I'm stumped as to how we can prevent Mrs. Black from influencing her daughter regarding the case." Her eyes shift to the rug.

"It's simple. I'll get a restraining order against Rebecca Black and have her removed from the house." I purse my lips and await her response.

Her eyes snap to mine and she seethes, "You can't just do that, Edward. She is her _mother_. Her mother, you can't fix or change that no matter the circumstances."

"Yes I can." I state simply.

She takes a step forward so we're only two feet apart now. She looks me directly in the eye. "This isn't about you. This case, it's not about you. I, we, all know you're seeking media coverage and want to lap up all the fame you can muster to obtain. Poor girl, she had no idea what she was getting herself in to. She definitely picked the wrong number out of the phonebook. Get a grip, Edward."

"You don't know anything about me." I state in a low, even voice.

"And whose fault is that?" She retorts. I cringe internally about the mention of the past. Yet, her angelic face twisted up into a pout makes me ache.

"Excuse me." I walk toward the door with Sam following and leave her for the second time in my life.

"_Bells," She looks up at me, her eyes shining. "If you could be any animal, what would you be?"_

"_I'd be whatever you'd be." She murmured._

_I cupped her face in my right hand. "You can't depend on me like that." Her face, confused, went blank and she bit her lip. But then I ran my fingertips along her lip and brought them to mine for what seemed like eternity._

…………

After ten minutes, due to my impossibly illegal speeding, I was sitting outside of my client's home. Hesitantly, I walked out of my car and rapped on Elizabeth Black's front door. It opened a crack and her head peaked out from behind it.

"Does it cost extra for me to let you in my house?" She demanded.

"No, it's free. I was just checking up on you, so, uh, hi." She opened the door more and I averted my eyes to the inside of her home.

"Hi. So want to come in or stand there all night?" She leads me into her home and gestures for me to sit down on their family sofa. The house reeks of familial warmth and love, when she asks, "Have you spoken to my mother?"

"I'm actually trying to avoid that. Where is she by the way? I'm half expecting her to run out from the kitchen with a set of knives. Possibly a spatula." She smiles at this.

"No, she's with Leah at the hospital right now. As always." I was somewhat relieved, from the one time I've met the woman she seemed to know what she wanted – and wouldn't let anything get in the way of that. Essentially, a hardass.

"So I heard you met the guardian ad litem today." I traced circles against the Black's cheery light blue sofa. Sam sniffed the coffee table in curiosity.

"Yeah, Bella. She seems pretty nice. We went to the movies. Did she say something about me?"

"Only that she was concerned about your mother talking to you about the case." I brought my hand to brush through my hair.

"We don't talk about anything other than Leah. There's nothing else to talk about," She said quietly. It went silent for a few moments. "So, do you have any kids?"

I laughed. Oh, this was good. "You think I have children?" I joked, smiling.

She smiled too and sat up straighter. "If it's because you're not good with them, I'm not going to strap you to the couch and blast hardcore rap in your ears for three hours." I laughed once again and pretended to brush sweat off my forehead. It wasn't that I handled children poorly; it was because I couldn't see myself being a father without the bride I wanted.

…………

Bella's apartment resided in a fairly upscale part of town, and as I'm walked up the steps the doorman eyes Sam.

"No dogs allowed, chief." I sighed.

"He's a service dog."

"You're not blind." He points out.

"Really? I'm a junkie. The dog gives me my crack when I need it." The doorman looks taken aback but he lets me through nonetheless. I make my way up to the seventh floor and knock on her door, cringing internally all the while. The door opens, however, the chain still in place as a good-looking blonde peers out at me.

"Who are you?" She demands, leaning toward the unfriendly side.

"I'm here to see Bella. Is she in?" Her roommate gives me another good look and rolls her eyes.

"Name?"

"Edward Cullen." Her eyes widen and she shuts the door in my face, and a second later it opens again fully. Standing next to her is Bella in pajama shorts and a raggedy t-shirt.

"Is that Ali-" The blonde stands there bewildered.

"Yes, it is." Bella cuts her roommate off in a cold tone.

"Wait, _the_ Edw-"

"_Yes_, Rose." Rose stares at me in shock, then her blue eyes narrow at me and immediately she's cornering me toward the door.

"Rosalie. He has papers he needs to give me. He's the attorney I'm working with for the new case." Bella gives Rose a hard look.

"Are you serious Bella? This is like, self-destructive behavior here. If you have to interact with him in the office fine but outsi-"

"_Rose_." Bella grits her teeth.

"So! I went and saw Elizabeth today." Bella turns to me, a look of surprise in her eyes.

"And?"

"You're burying your own grave, Bella." Rose interjects.

"Don't you have a dinner date with Emmett tonight?" Bella retorts sweetly, yet there are elements of venom dripping from the question.

Rose huffed and stalked off to what I assume is her bedroom. Bella holds her hand out and takes the papers politely from my hand.

"Thanks for the papers. Bye." She beings to attempt to push me out the door but I don't budge.

"Bella-" But she interrupts me.

"I'm trying to save us some trouble okay? Is that what the dog is for? Did you train it to pull you out of emotionally battering situations? I must say, I'm impressed, Edward. That's quite some training you've given your dog." Still pushing against my chest, my legs are locked into place.

"I'd rather have a hug from Rose." I stared wistfully at the sofa.

"Bye Edward." She's still attempting to budge me out but I finally grab the sides of her arms and pull her back so I can see her face. Her face freezes and she averts her eyes.

"Bella, look, I'm sorry about walking out today. It was an emergency, okay? She locks her eyes onto mine, her chocolate ones piercing into me.

"What's the dog for, Edward?" She says evenly.

I don't answer her as I close the door and walk deeper into the apartment, Bella and Sam following.

"I went to see Elizabeth today. Yes, I know what you're thinking. I shot the breeze with her, had an actual conversation."

"Are you going to follow through with that ridiculous notion about a restraining order?" She calls out from behind her as she ambles toward the counter and pours a glass of red wine.

"No. I think we're on the same page about it," She eyes me while taking a sip from her glass. "And yes, I'd love some, thanks." I smile at her.

She nods toward the fridge and I rummage through it, finally producing the bottle in my hand. I pour myself a glass and sit myself down at the counter. I survey her apartment, probing for any signs of masculinity – any indication of a male residing here.

"How long have you been living with Rose?" After taking a sip I nodded toward her roommate's apparent bedroom.

"A couple years. She's my best friend." She swishes her glass.

"What about –" Bella cuts me off.

"Alice is like my sister. Rose is my best friend." It goes quiet for a couple of minutes until I interject.

"So, other than law school what have you been doing the past eight years? I down my glass.

"Hm, that's a great question. Absolutely nothing. Getting dragged around by Rose, a bar here or there, sleeping, working. Reading I suppose, but you probably already assumed that much. And yourself?" She pushes the wine bottle toward me. I pour myself another glass.

"I have six wives, fifteen children, three cows and a three-legged sheep," Her lips curve and my heart thanks the heavens. She runs her tongue over her upper set of teeth and cocks her head. "So, why aren't you doing the soccer mom thing? You know, living in suburbia, carting the kiddies around in a blue van with a bumper sticker plastered on the back that reads 'My Child Is An Honor Roll Student At ThisBumperStickerIsBull Elementary School' who has some lucky stock broker guy to go home to every night." Bella smiles and shakes her head.

"You are most definitely confusing me with Susie Q or whatever their names were at Hamden." She finally downed her glass.

"No, it's just… I was hoping I would have been that guy." The atmosphere immediately goes thick with silence. After what seems like ages, she pierces it.

"You made it pretty clear you didn't want to be that guy, Edward," I can detect a sliver of trembling in her voice. She gets up and takes my glass from me. "Finished?" It was a rhetorical question. She puts both glasses in the sink and opens the door to put the bottle back in the fridge. But I wanted to say it wasn't true. I wanted to be that guy, I _want_ to be that guy, but how can I say this when I made it publicly apparent eight years ago that I didn't?

"Bells…" I used her old nickname. It stung my throat and lips. My heart…

All movement she was making in the fridge freezes. She slowly straightens herself up, her back toward me.

"Stop. Edward, this is too hard and we both know it. J-just leave." She's trembling now, and all I want to do it go over to her and smooth her hair, to trail kisses from her temple to her collarbone. To tell her it's okay, that I'm in love with her and that's how it'll always be. But I can't. I believed that no one could have ever hurt Bella; she was too independent. I was wrong.

**BPOV**

Exactly ten seconds after Edward leaves our apartment, Rose strolls into the room. I didn't need this right now – her chiding. I needed to have a bone-cleansing cry that most women had every few years or so. I needed to crumple and have all my bones turn to ash. He was unbelievable.

"It's obvious your relationship is strictly professional." She scowled dryly.

"I don't need this right now, Rose." I half choked. She immediately stopped in her tracks and sat down next to me.

"Bell, it's okay. Shh.." She soothed while she stroked my hair.

"He's unbelievable." I sniffled.

"You and Romeo need to stop this. You're too good for this. You can't be hung up on him for eight years, you need to let go." She continued to stroke my hair and wiped a small tear from the corner of my eye.

I blinked away a couple of tears and stood up. "I'm going out, Rose."

"Okay, just keep it in check, Bell." She kissed my head and strode to her bedroom. I went to my own and threw on something socially acceptable, then I went into the den and grabbed my purse and keys.

…………

I walked into a bar, something with the name of Eclipse. As I scope out a stool at the bar, I set myself and my purse down at the counter. The bartender has wild pink hair and as I observe more, I realize that there are no women in this place. Of all venues in Seattle, I'd picked a gay bar.

"Excuse me," I call out to the bartender. He comes right over and is wringing a wet cloth. "Is this a gay bar?"

"No, it's the White House. What can I get you?" He has two earrings and his fuchsia hair is a tad entertaining. I point to the vodka bottle behind him and he reaches for a shot glass but I shake my head.

"The whole thing." As I rummage through my purse and hand him a bill.

"Rough night?" He raises an eyebrow. I nod commence with the night.

Several hours later, potentially three, I'm slurring my speech and I'm the only one there – excluding Blue.

"You're not gay." I point out, cross-eyed. He's stacking glasses up and wipes a spill I didn't realize I made.

"No, I'm not." Blue rechristened himself when he decided Mike was too bland of a name to quite possibly live with. I stared into my martini and bit my lip.

"He used to call me Bells." And that was enough to make me start sobbing.

"_Bells are beautiful, they tinkle and they shine. You just run around _glowing_. You don't even shine, you glow. They're also there to announce something but that doesn't make sense..." He smiled, chuckling at himself._

"_Yes it does," I silenced him. "I'm there to announce that I'm so in love with you it should be illegal." And I locked my fingers into his hair and kissed him like the sun would never rise again. _

"We're never supposed to fall for the people we're supposed to." Blue states, wiping yet another spill of mine.

"Pff. Tell me about it," I mange to knock over the martini glass and look up at him apologetically. "What happened with you?"

"That's it, you're cut off," He snatches the glass from me, leaving nothing there. Then he shrugged. "Well, like I said, it happens to everyone. For me it was Lauren."

"Ha!" I sloppily pointed at him. "So you're not gay."

"Congratulations, Detective Bella. You've found me out, I'm not gay," He rolled his eyes. "She was from England, perfect actually. We lived together for four years until her green card expired. The only option was to get married and I just wasn't ready so she had to get deported. The problem is, when I said goodbye to her at the airport I didn't feel anything. _Nothing_. I didn't cry. Nothing."

"That's the problem. You didn't care and she cared too much, and I cared too much about Edward and he didn't care about me," I swayed on the stool and sniffled.

Another hour later, I had convinced Blue to let me sip the bottle of tequila.

"What if I was Green? Would that suit me?" I tipped the bottle toward Blue and questioned. He laughed and said,

"Bella, you are a train wreck of romantic history. Hon, you need to stop." He smiled and closed the till on the cash register.

I groaned loudly. "Ugh, I _know_. He's just everywhere; he's a ghost, Blue. I'm telling you, that man haunts me. Dormant and awake," I buried my head into my arms and raised my head back up after a minute. "I think I'm going to go home now."

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**Thank you again for reading! Reviews would be nice =)**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	3. Leukemia

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

Leah Black is a ghost waiting to happen. Her pale skin is so translucent from the leukemia medication that it fades away into the white sheets of the hospital bed. Her blonde hair is so fair that it bleeds into the pillow – she's slowly sinking into the bed and disappearing forever.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" Billy Black kisses his daughter's forehead as I'm awkwardly standing there with Rebecca Black shooting daggers at me. Elizabeth is nervously standing in the doorway and rocks her weight back and forth.

"I'll have to put my Olympic training on hold," Leah jokes. Everyone in the room cracks a smile when her head swivels to look at me. "Who are you?"

"Hi Leah, I'm Bella Swan –" I get cut off by her mother - the mother that is vying for her youngest daughter's kidney to save the life of her eldest. The mother who also keeps Elizabeth close at bay so she can have her continue to donate parts of her body to her sister until she fades away as well.

"Billy, what is she doing here?" Mrs. Black turns to her husband, and then to me with wide eyes. He doesn't answer it, and in his place his youngest daughter does.

"Bella, I don't think it's such a good time. Leah is still really sick and…"

"May I speak with you in the hallway Miss Swan?" Mrs. Black turns to me, her brown hair hangs around her face and the hollow brown eyes that stare right at me sends a shiver down my spine.

"Of course." She leads me into the hallway and abruptly stops. She turns to face me and I can detect her bottom lip is trembling. Her eyes close, they are bracketed by lines that have lost the battle of sleep, her brown hair is in a messy up do and her 5'4 frame is small and fragile. I realize that Jacob is her biological clone and Leah is that of Mr. Black. Elizabeth, she's the outlier – the stem cell baby. The odd child out who bears no resemblance to either one of her parents.

"I understand that this is your job, Miss Swan. I practiced law once and that is what makes us _us._ But, _my_ job is to take care of my daughters. Leah is dying and Elizabeth is extremely unhappy, and I might not have figured it all out yet but I will. I am asking, no, begging you please do not tell Leah the reason you are here is to tell her that her sister has not withdrawn her involvement in this case; that the reason you are here is because you're a disguised messenger of death. Please," And at the last word her voice cracks. She smoothes her hair back and turns around. As she's walking back to the room she calls over her shoulder, "I love them _both_."

I walk back into Leah's room and it's just the two of us. Billy and Rebecca took Elizabeth to the cafeteria to spend time with her – the very little attention they give her outside of the surgery ward.

"So are you a doctor? No wait, ethics committee? I don't know, either a lawyer or a doctor." Leah directs at me as I take a seat in a creaky wooden chair next to her bed. I smile politely at her and fidget in my seat.

"I'm the guardian ad litem for Elizabeth's case," I say softly. "I hear you're feeling better today, Leah." Yesterday she was apparently in critical condition and she seems to have made a mediocre recovery.

"Yeah, they had me all drugged up yesterday. It made me look like a hot mess compared to Ozzy or Kurt." I smiled at this and then probed,

"Do you know where you stand medically at the moment?"

"I got graft-versus-disease which is all right because it's beating the leukemia at the moment, but it messes with your skin and organs. So, the doctors gave me steroids and cyclosporine to control it but it broke down my kidneys. So yeah, I'm currently suffering from kidney failure… Fun times." She gave me a grim smile and I had to look away.

"Tell me more about your brother." I look at her and bite my lip.

She laughs freely. "Let's just say he gets into a lot of bad stuff. I mean bad, bad stuff. I'm not talking hitting up the bong every weekend - I'm talking anthrax hoaxes and shoplifting while absolutely plastered. Those are the kinds of things that Jacob does." She's still smiling as she says this and it confuses me.

"But why is he like this?" I furrow my brow and internally spill my heart out for the Black family.

"When you go to the zoo," She sighs. "You never look at the rabbit first. You look at the elephant first. If you place both of them into the same cage, everyone is going to be staring at the elephant. Sure, the rabbit will get a five second look here or there, but other than that, it fades into the background."

"And what about Elizabeth?" I murmured.

"She's my best friend," Leah states in a matter of fact tone. "But, one summer I was in the hospital and she wanted to go to sleep-away soccer camp. Of course, my mom said she couldn't leave because she needed to be here in case something happened. But she ran away for a few hours, and when they found her tear-streaked, she kept repeating she was going to find herself a new family."

Of course. Leah overshadows Elizabeth, but Jacob is completely in the eclipse; no wonder he had become juvenile. It was because no one was looking over their shoulder watching him, all eyes were set on Leah, yet they occasionally averted to Elizabeth when an organ or blood cells were on the order list.

I place my hand gently over Leah's translucent one and give her a strained, weak smile. And at that moment Dr. Carlisle Cullen walks into the room and I nearly faint.

…………

After discussing Leah's medical condition and history with Dr. Cullen, I decided I needed to get going. "Bella, it was fantastic seeing you again, dear. You look great," Dr. Cullen smiles warmly at me and my bones ache. "Esme will be so pleased to know that you are doing well. Please Bella, do come over for dinner tonight. We can call the kids up and have a reunion." I immediately think of Edward and every ounce of composure I once had shatters. He sees this in my face and comprehension washes over him. The doctor seems to be battering himself internally for the slip and gives me an apologetic look. "Oh well, you know, Alice is dying to see you again and…"

I strain a smile. "Thank you for the lovely offer, Dr. Cullen, but I have an extremely rigorous schedule and I'm afraid I can't attend, but do give my love to Esme and Alice. It's apparent we'll be seeing more each other though." He nods and gives me a peck on the cheek.

"Take care of yourself, dear. We're always here for you." The father of the man I am in love with, and the oncologist for my client's sister kindly says.

I say goodbye to Leah and give one last warm smile to Carlisle as I exit the room to walk down the hallway. As I get into the elevator of the hospital, I absentmindedly hit the 'Lobby' button and turn, but not without bumping into something. I look up and see my personal demon staring down at me.

**EPOV**

I stare down at Bella and her eyes go wide, along with the reddening of her cheeks. She mumbles something incoherent when she suddenly composes herself and icily inquires,

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my father, for professional reasons however." We're still a couple inches apart when she crosses her arms and huffs. It's silent for a moment before she finally speaks.

"Oh yes, I met with him today. We discussed Leah's medical condition for a few minutes." She stays locked in place, and so do I.

"I see. I met with him regarding Elizabeth, actually." I have to fight myself to raise my hand the few inches to stroke her cheekbone, along with the bigger urge to push her against the wall and have my way with kissing her.

"Elizabeth?" She flips her hair behind her back and the small space is immediately filled with the smell of strawberries and the electricity of our chemistry. It was a metal box set to blow up.

"Regarding her medical files." I pull out a set of files my father gave me and hold them in front of her. She glances at them.

"Oh. So, I spoke with her mother today." She sighs, the sigh of an angel.

"And?" Why the hell was this elevator taking so long?

"She wants us to leave her alone and let her do her job." Why did she wear that blue blouse today? To torture me?

"Which is?" Kiss her… Kiss her…

"Let her be a mother, not an attorney." It goes silent and I decided I didn't feel like discussing the case any longer. The elevator finally reaches the lobby when something inside me won't let her walk away from me.

"Want to get a cup of coffee?" She stares at me.

"No." She begins to turn and walk out of the elevator.

"Bella, wait," I grab her hand and she looks up at me in shock. I drop it so fast it could have been acidic and we're left standing there, staring at each other as the elevator doors close. She blushes a glorious shade of red and turns her head away, but not without biting down on her lip. "Just because you and I can't both grow up doesn't mean we can't give Elizabeth a chance to." She hesitates for a moment.

"Nice line. Want me to write that down for the press? Compliments of Isabella Swan," Ouch. Sam begins to whine. "But… you're right." I throw my head back in laughter.

"Now _that_ I'd like to write down." She begins to walk away and Sam and I follow her.

She ambles out of the hospital and makes a few turns through the streets. The way her hips swayed when she walked drove me absolutely mental and I had to take a deep sigh to control myself. At this she stops to eye me.

"So, your father said that he doesn't think Leah is strong enough for major surgery."

"And Rebecca Black is vying for it." I point out. She blinks and purses her lips.

"You know, Leah is dying anyway. Why not push for it? It's her only hope." She stands there fiddling with the zipper on her purse.

"Because her other daughter has to undergo major surgery when it's unnecessary and potentially dangerous to her health." I cross my arms in confidence. She just stares at me, her beautiful brown eyes thawing me from the inside out. Bella turns around, but the heel of her pump gets caught in a sidewalk crack and in the next moment she's in my arms.

My arms are wrapped around her thin waist and she stares up at me with wide, brown eyes. I can feel the curve of her spine, the way that her back slowly transitions into curves on her hips… She inhales sharply and then bites down on her lip while her cheeks turn a cherry color. I chuckle and hold her for longer than I should have before setting her upright. She smoothes her pencil skirt down and continues walking. We reach a small venue, a restaurant, I'm assuming, named New Moon. A tall, honey blonde man walks out and smiles warmly at Bella.

"Jasper!" She exclaims as she pecks him on the cheek. My heart sinks into the pit of my stomach and I brace for the worst.

"Bella, how good to see you again." He continues smiling. Damn him. Bella turns to me and looks me dead in the eye. "Edward," she says in a sweetly venomous voice – it was obvious she disliked addressing me. "This is a family friend, Jasper Whitlock. Jasper, this is Edward Cullen."

"Nice to meet you, Edward." He looks at me a bit strangely and shakes my hand. I can detect a long lost southern accent. Jasper turns to Bella and puts his hand on her shoulder. My heart ached. "Come in, come in. Any preference on where you'd like to sit?" He then turns to me and gives me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but we don't allow dogs."

"Preferably somewhere quiet. And, he's a service dog." I interject. He has the courtesy not to probe further. Then he smiles warmly at me and winks at Bella.

"It's not like that," Bella mutters to him and he chuckles quietly. Jasper leads us toward the back and sits us down at a small table. "Jazz's dad owns the place," Bella whispers to me. I nod in comprehension. "Mm, and one more thing. He's dating your sister."

My face must have been absolutely absurd because Bella started giggling. I raised my eyebrow five feet in disbelief and she had to muster her giggles down. "You really should call Alice back more often." After eight years, Bella still knew me. Unbelievable.

After we receive our respective meals, she looks at me again. "What's the dog really for, Edward?"

"Oh fine, you got me. He translates for my Spanish-speaking clients," She cracks a smile and spears a piece of her mushroom ravioli. "Do you remember that time in Spanish…" She stops her movement and brings her eyes to meet mine.

"I thought this was about discussing Elizabeth's case," She looks away and bites her lips. "But I do remember when we convinced Senora Torres that the Fidel Castro called Headmaster Newton up and told him that he brought democracy to Cuba because of our school's excellence? And that he hoped all Cuban schools could follow in the steps of ours?" She finished. Bella laughed her musical laugh and I joined in - our laughs intertwining in the air to make a beautiful song. I looked at her eyes and they seemed alive, like they sparkled.

"You have sauce there." I pointed to her cheek and she turned pink.

"Did I get it?" I had to hold back a smile because she completely missed. She was still the same, clumsy Bella.

"No, here." I lifted my napkin up to clean the small spot on her cheek, but I leave my hand there. I cup her face in my hand and she inhales sharply. Bella closes her eyes and emits a sigh.

"Edward," she trembles, "Don't do this to me again."

"Do what?" I stare at her so intensely that she has to look away.

"Push me off the same cliff twice." I drop my hand as if I'd been electrocuted and the air goes unbearably thick and viscous with silence. My phone begins to ring and I give a silent prayer of thanks.

"Hello? Calm down, calm down. Wait, are you okay. Okay I'll be there in ten," I snap my phone shut and look at Bella. "It's Elizabeth." Bella follows me in her own car as Sam and I speed to the police station on the west side of Seattle.

…………

I burst through the doors followed by Sam and Bella. Elizabeth runs up to me, panic-stricken and frantic.

"You have to help!" She cries.

"What's going on?" I question her.

"Jacob got himself landed in jail! You have to help get him out. _Please_." She begs me. I immediately turn sour.

"I'm _your_ lawyer not his." Bella whacks me in the arm and gives me a hard look. I sigh and ask for more details.

"He jacked a car and got busted. I think it was a big yellow Lamborghini." Elizabeth informs me with wide eyes. I groan and immediately regret this. There's only one big yellow Lamborghini in the city of Seattle and it belongs to Judge Weber.

"You expect me to get your brother out after stealing a judge's car?" I spit.

Elizabeth blinks at me. "Well… _yeah._" I scowl and stride over to the officer.

"It was Judge Weber's wasn't it." I state dully. The officer smiles at me and says,

"Yup."

"Why is he in jail? Shouldn't it be juvenile hall?" I probe.

"Sorry boss, the kid just turned eighteen, this is slapped on his record." The police officer shrugs.

I sigh. "Look, cut the kid some slack. His family is going through a rough time; his sister is dying and the other one is suing their parents." I pinch the bridge of my nose and the office hesitates.

"All right, I'll talk to them for you but I'm pretty sure Judge Weber doesn't want to come testify." After some further negotiation, I manage to get Jacob Black out of jail. I walk over to his metal bunk to find him lying there with his arm slung over his face. He notices me out of the corner of his eye and sits up.

"Who the hell are you?" He eyes me carefully.

"Your fairy godmother. You little _imbecile_," I seethe, "Do you realize you stole a judge's Lamborghini?"

"How was I supposed to know?" He dramatically sighs.

I hiss through my teeth. "I'm a lawyer and your sister asked me to represent you. I got you out on PR bail but you have to agree to giving up your license and to live at home – which you already do so that shouldn't be a problem." I cross my arms as his cell door is unlocked.

"_Sick_." He follows Sam and I out into the waiting area, but rather than greeting his sister he ignores her and goes straight up to Bella.

"Hey babe. Were you worried about me?" He grins at her.

"Get away." She groans and turns to look at me, pleading in her eyes.

I immediately have the urge to lock him up again, _after_ I kill him.

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**Have a good weekend, guys!**

**If you review you get a hug from Edward**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	4. Reconciliation

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

**A/N: I'm sorry this was a updated a bit late, I was going through some personal stuff and it was difficult to find the inspiration to write again. Enjoy**

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**EPOV**

_I brought Bella to my home for dinner for the first time. I pulled my silver Volvo into the driveway of my parents' sprawling white mansion and Bella's eyes grew three sizes. I drove through the loop driveway and parked on the left side, parallel to Alice's Audi Coop on the right side. I put my car in neutral and drank in my home, hoping it wouldn't be too imposing for Bella's eyes. It's true that three floors was too much for four people, and maybe the gate was a bit too much as well, but I had convinced myself that the several acres spreading into the forest was kind of… Nevermind. I ran a hand through my hair before she squeaked._

"_You're joking." She breathed. I shook my head and smiled – I was still staring straight ahead with my hands on the wheel. After a moment of silence I turned to her and kissed her softly. I lingered for a bit then pulled away. I studied her face and to my relief all traces of nervousness had disappeared – rather, they were replaced by the look of love drooping on her eyelids complimented by a large smile plastered on her perfect face. _

"_They'll love you, Bells." I encouraged her. I helped her out of the car and we walked up the stone steps, hand in hand, to greet my awaiting family. When we walked through the threshold, Alice almost literally jumped on her and took her into a vice grip._

"_Bella!" She scolded. "I told you to wear the blue one!" Alice looks her up and down and Bella turns a shade of pink. My sister was being more than absurd; the white summer dress Bella decided to wear was breathtakingly beautiful on her. I gave Alice a look and she stuck her tongue out at me. "Edward, I just try to make her look stunning for you!"_

"_She already is stunning." I growled in response._

"_Children." The voice of my father floats toward the three of us. My father, Carlisle, has his arm gently draped over the shoulders of my mother who has a beaming smile on her face. They appear at the foot of the spiraling staircase and then approach us._

"_Bella, it is so wonderful to finally meet you. And look how beautiful you are!" Esme, my mother, coos. Bella turns pink again and Alice mutters something along the lines of 'blue' and 'look better.' I shoot her a glare and she makes a face at me._

"_Thank you for inviting me to your home, Mrs. Cullen. It's so lovely." Bella smiles politely._

"_You're more than welcome." My father interjects kindly and smiles at her._

"_You can't hog her all night, you know." Alice points to me. I look at my fraternal twin, and her demeanor is completely serious but I can see a twinkle of humor in her eyes._

"_Yes I can, you silly pixie." I scoff. My parents chuckle and turn to leave before saying,_

"_Dinner will be ready in an hour."_

_Carlisle and Esme adored her, and Alice enjoyed her company as always. It was possible that my parents saw me sneaking her into the house via the third floor window later that night, through the guest bedroom and down the spiral staircase to the rear door of the estate. It was possible they saw us pressed against the pool house, panting and heaving after a kiss that went on far too long. It was possible they saw her wrap her legs around my waist as I carried her to the edge of the forest. And it was possible they saw me lay her down gently on the luscious green grass, me hovering over her. It was possible that they saw me kissing the mystery of her collarbone and trailing down to her bellybutton. And it was possible that they saw us truly together for the first time; connected as one. Me taking her as she took me. But it was impossible to say that they saw the passion and love in her eyes - just as mine reflected the exact same._

_We are sweating in the June heat as she curls up next to me and kisses my chest. I had just begun to get my breathing under control before she broke the silence._

"_I love you." She whispers. I look down at her and something inside me stirs._

"_Bells," I say softly. "I need you." I didn't need to say anything more and we both knew it. I began to hum her a lullaby, something she inspired and that Alice helped me compose. Soon, she was asleep in my arms and I knew this was my purpose in life. _

Suddenly, my phone begins to buzz on the table and I hesitantly pick up after catching a glance at the caller ID.

"Edward. I see you've decided to actually speak to me." Alice says sweetly on the phone. I can't decide whether or not she is being genuine or is sharpening the knives set for my murder as we speak.

"Yes. Al, how are you?" I nervously fidget with Sam's collar as I concentrate particularly hard on the small crack in my apartment wall.

"Fine," She coos. "So, I have some news."

"What's that?" I avert my attention to the glass coffee table that holds superficial and nonessential trinkets.

"Oh, you'll never believe it. I'm engaged! It's marvelous." She half trills. I reel into a coughing fit and I'm almost certain my face has gone a shade of violet. Sam begins barking and pulling at the sleeve of my jacket before I push the muzzle of his nose away.

"_Excuse_ me, Alice? Wait, to that Jasper fellow? How long have you known him? When the hell did this happen? Did you tell mom and dad – wait _why_ have you not spoken to me about this guy before?" My list of furious questions continues on before she interrupts me with a pealing giggle.

"Yes, to Jasper," She happily sighs. "And well, I've dated him on and off since we graduated Hamden," Her tone suddenly goes serious and hard. "Everybody knew, Edward," She pauses. "But_ you_ wouldn't know about my life after that graduation day." Her voice is sour and there is silence on the phone. After a minute of unbearable silence, I decided to break it for the first time.

"Well," Was I trembling? I gulped and hesitated. "Would… you like to fill me in…?" Another couple seconds of silence and then her high-pitched voice pierced it.

"Oh, Edward. Welcome back." She half-sings. We were once so in sync, and like that, I had reconnected the bridge. It had broken for too long, the pieces lay there in the water but I had been too pompous to accept her help in fixing it. Rather, I let the pieces stay broken, but in a mere couple of minutes we were back – how it should have been these past eight years.

Alice chattered and joked on the phone for almost an hour – it was typical of her but rather than feeling tortured I felt incredibly content. I laughed heartily at her jokes and it was fantastic to hear her pealing giggles once again. Over the past eight years, Alice and I used to have ten-minute phone conversations every lunar cycle or so, accompanied by brief, awkward exchanges when our parents demanded the occasional dinner reunion. I had learned through our phone call that she met Jasper Whitlock, a respectable architect, through Bella almost directly after we graduated Hamden. As Bella had previously mentioned to me, the Swans and Whitlocks are close family friends. According to Alice as well, her and Jasper had an on and off romance due to the fact that they attended different universities, but after they both graduated they managed a solid three-year relationship. As all this information sinks in, I want to punch myself for never inquiring about her personal life. Yet on the contrary, I feel as if I'm now forgiven and a new chapter is waiting to begin.

"So who thawed you out?" Alice joked.

"I'm not sure." I muse.

"I think I know!" She rings.

"Don't push your luck."

"_Bella, Alice has begged me that you let her take you shopping this weekend." I chuckle. She smiles at me and crinkles her eyes._

"_Of course she did; I bet your parents can barely rein her in at the moment. But on a serious note, you need to save me." I laugh at this and think of my twin sister. _

_It's true we barely have any physical resemblance to one another – her turquoise blue eyes are compliments of Carlisle's while my green ones are a complete mystery. The odd bronze colored hair sitting on top of my scalp was inherited from Esme while Alice's jet-black locks were due to a hair follicle pigmentation. Apparently, she was born with Carlisle's blonde hair, but over our first two years of age it slowly changed to raven – works of the biological pigmentation malfunction. I wouldn't know – I don't remember that far back. But I do know that the two biggest women in my life, Bella and Alice, are more like sisters than friends. _

_Bella and I are inseparable; we rarely spend a few hours apart. One night, I was playing the lullaby I crafted for her on our grand piano when Alice flitted to my side and scooted next to me on the bench._

"_Mother and father want us to go to the Volturi's black-tie party tonight," She informed. I stopped playing and the air went silent. I made a face and she giggled. "I know. Awful right? I really don't like that family; Alec has had a thing for me for years." She makes a face._

"_It's nice I can say the same about Jane." She trilled in laughter again and poked at one of the keys. A note rang through the air and it became silent again. _

"_Well, let's put it this way, Mary Alice Volturi sounds absolutely horrid. And Jane Cullen? Oh no, no." I wrapped my hands around my neck and pretended to be gagging. I became irritated at how much my mother loved to socialize with her high society friends. _

_Alice sighed. "I know I get to dress up and all, but I'm really dreading this one. I can't even dress up Bella! It's family only apparently."_

_I groaned for at least five seconds straight. A night without Bella, my Bella. My irritation doubled in size – a night apart from Bella and in exchange, Jane and Tanya Volturi attempting to seduce me by bringing up ridiculously absurd idioms._

_We were sitting in my car, stalling in the driveway of the Swan residence. I turn to her._

"_Bella, love. I'll call you before graduation okay? You'll barely miss me." I smoothed her hair and kissed her nose. Classes were already over, and graduation was tomorrow._

"_Okay… I love you." The sadness in her eyes was undeniable - we both hated spending time apart from one another. I kissed the top of her head._

"_Take care of my heart, I've left it with you. I love you so much, Bella." I breathed. She smiled got out of my Volvo. I didn't lie about this. _

_But I didn't call her, and I didn't meet up with her at graduation. I avoided her as much as possible, but she found me while I was putting on my cap. _

"_Hi," She breathed. "What happened to you?" Her brown eyes were now orbs, full of concern. She tried to wrap her thin arms around my waist but I twisted out of it._

"_Just don't, okay? Don't," I said absentmindedly. "I think it's better if you just leave me alone for a long time." My last words come out harsh and it stings my tongue to say them. She stared at me, shocked, like I had hit her. Her eyes glazed over after a moment and she bit her trembling lip. After a minute of staring at one another, Bella turned around and walked away._

_After about twenty minutes, Alice came storming up to me. The look in her eyes was pure fury, and although I was a good two heads taller than her, she was towering over me in anger. She pulled back her upper lip to reveal her white teeth and a half-growl escaped her throat. _

"_How dare you, Edward Anthony Cullen. How _dare_ you." And then she got up on her tiptoes, so high that I cursed God that she was a ballet dancer, and slapped me so hard that I saw stars. She straightened out her gown and cap and narrowed her eyes at me._

"_Get out of my face, Alice." I said, cold as ice._

"_What is going on with you? You take her back, I know you're still in love with her." She responds, just as, if not, colder._

"_No, I'm not." I say evenly, laced with ice. Her eyes flare and she snarls,_

"_She's my sister, Edward. How dare you hurt her like this – you two were _made_ for each other," She hesitates for a moment but then continues. "Either you take her back and get over yourself or you lose both of us," Alice takes a deep breath and crosses her arms. "Do it or get out of my life, and don't even try to think I'm bluffing." _

"_Fine. Goodbye Alice." I spit her name venomously. She bares her teeth again and brings her arm back to punch my chest. For a 4'11 pixie she punches quite hard. I wince slightly and then snarl at her._

"_You jerk. You goddamn jerk. You better find a profession that doesn't require a heart because you don't bloody have one. After shutting everyone out it's all you'll have anyway." She hisses. She wheels around on the heels of her feet, but before she walks away from me she shrieks over her shoulder, "You'll never get over her. I hope, no, I _know_ she'll haunt you. Never bet against me, Edward. It was a nice eighteen-year run." I stood there without a word. I wasn't going to bet against Alice, I didn't even think about it. Because I knew she spoke the truth, and in the span of thirty minutes, I watched both women in my life walk away from me, potentially forever._

_In our family graduation picture, Carlisle and Esme are on either side of us beaming with happiness. My hand is awkwardly, no, uncomfortably placed on Alice's tiny shoulder and her smile is so wide and perfect it hurts your eyes. My smile was wide as well, but it looked as if I was dreaming of being in a different place. It was a perfect shot of a perfect family, but if you look very closely, you can see the thin, red line on my cheek from the remaining mark that Alice left – the flaw in it all. Minus the minute mark, no one person could glance at this photo and be able to detect the broken sibling bond. And no one would be able to detect my shattered heart as I saw the broken-hearted girl sobbing into her father's shoulder. Chief Swan thought his daughter was crying of happiness, but if he really knew, this whole perfect façade would be a bust. And then what? It was simple; my life would crumble around me as I would fall to the ground and sob my heart out for years. But I couldn't do that – rather, I buried myself so deep in the façade of perfection that I couldn't find my way out anymore._

**Jacob POV**

A homemade bomb is simple to make. Just take a glass bowl, a hydrometer, some bleach and potassium chloride – found in health food stores as a salt substitute. Mix the bleach and potassium chloride then heat, boil and cool. You now have potassium chlorate in a crystalline form. Measure out fifty-six grams of these crystals and mix them with distilled water. Heat and cool once again. The crystals that remain are now potassium chlorate in its purest form. Grind this into a fine power and heat to dry. Get your hands on a blasting capsule and there you have it – blow up whatever the hell you want now.

On the outskirts of the city of Seattle is a lovely set of abandoned warehouses. I take my car on a humble fifteen-minute ride to reach my destination, and as it comes into view, I park a decent hundred feet away in a reclusive nook. After departing myself from my car, I lean against the hood and slowly scan the area.

I laced about every square inch of that rickety warehouse with gasoline, an amount I acquired after some time of frequently saving my car's tank gas. I took one last scan of the place and noted that the walls were peeling, the south door was hanging off its hinges and I was able to count three different windows that were either cracked or shattered. However, there was a blocked off area which was particularly hard to reach, but I shrugged this off as I figured the fire would consume it anyway. I remove my cigarette momentarily to exhale the smoke and then place it back between my lips again. I whip out my pack and lazily pull out a second puffer, along with my lighter. After shifting all my weight to my left leg, I light the second cigarette and place it between my lips alongside my first one. Two cancer sticks poking out of my mouth – the goddamn irony. After taking two simultaneous drags, I make sure I drizzle the last of the gasoline over the "J.B." composed of sawdust on the ground – my initials. My explosive is placed neatly in the far corner of the warehouse; placed behind a few crates. I absentmindedly hum a tune for a about half a minute, and then I drop my first cigarette onto my initials and run like the devil is chasing me; well, he probably is anyway.

As I was sitting in my car gleaming with my pyromaniac satisfaction, I began to hear the sirens. I propped my legs up onto the wheel of my car and continued to smoke while I watched the beautiful inferno I created. Not even ten seconds after I fled the building, the windows exploded and shattering glass littered the perimeter. The fire was now at it's peak – blazing and licking up every centimeter of the warehouse. I silently patted myself on the back and something twitched inside me. It was the realization that no one else came with me to witness the one thing that brought me satisfaction, and I was alone; so alone that if I tried to scream no one could hear me.

As I snapped out of my epiphany, I did hear screams, but I could have sworn that they were real and not psychological. It slowly dawned on me that the homeless occasionally reside in this part of town, and a feeling of panic crept up to my conscience.

My father is the Chief firefighter, and when I was younger, he told me that the men who serve their country are real heroes. As the sirens are getting louder, I wonder if my father will be here to wash the fire away – to gain another mark of heroism for his coat. I fling my shirt off, fast as lightning, and dunk it into a puddle before tying it around my nose and mouth. As I enter the burning building, I can't see more than three feet in front of me. My eyes immediately tear up as the black smoke makes contact with them, and after surveying the warehouse I realize is has been burned to only the skeletal structure. Smoke and fire are screaming at me, billowing from every area that is remotely possible. My eyes are half-blind at this point, and tears begin streaming down from the irritation. I cough deeply several times before I begin to yell.

"Hello? Hello? Is anybody in here?"

I get on my knees and begin to crawl with my chin tucked in, trying to avoid the smoke. My chest begins to sweat profusely and I flail my arms in front of me – trying to find any kind of lump. I burn my right hand on a scrap of burning metal and muffle a yelp of pain. From what I can make out, my hand is beginning to blister from the third-degree burn I just obtained. After what seemed like hours, I begin to gasp for air and slowly curl up into a ball. I'm going to die in here, and my father is going to have to carry my charred corpse in his arms. I fling my arm out of a sudden burst of will to make it out alive, and miraculously, I feel the boot of a man. I stand erect and throw the man over my shoulder and then run as fast as I possibly goddamn can. By some little joke of God, we make it outside and my lungs take in the fresh air thankfully and gracefully. I look up and see a line of fire trucks parked outside the warehouse, the firemen beginning to depart them. Rather than bringing him to my father, I drop the unconscious man on the ground and run with my heart beating so fast that I should be in cardiac arrest. I'm running, not only in fear, but because I need to leave this to the people who actually want to be heroes.

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**Thank you again for reading.**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	5. Why Do I Have To Wear This?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

After Alice called Rose and I about her engagement, before we knew it two weeks had passed - the date slotted for her lavish engagement party was set for tonight. I wasn't sure how to feel about this – I felt an abundance of happiness for two of the most important people in my life, but at the same time, I had no comment on high-society parties filled with the task of dressing up to perfection. Rose had been bustling in and out of the apartment the entire day, trying to work her magic by discovering gorgeous dresses and immaculate make-up. I did absolutely nothing, watching some re-runs here and there but I left all the work to Rose; after all, she is a model – she knows these things and I don't.

It had been a solid couple of hours since she last sprinted out of the apartment, set on a mission, and in that spare time I managed to cozily curl up in a blanket on our sofa and watch a movie. A few minutes in, I realize the main character's name is Edward. I huff angrily and shut off the TV before curling up deeper in to my ball. Thoughts of the beautiful Cullen angel filled my head and I sigh in bliss. After about a minute though, I snap out of my thoughts and feel the urge to slap myself. Just then, Rose bursts through the front door and I can hear the thump of her purse sloppily landing on the coffee table and the clanging of her keys accidentally striking the wooden floors.

"Oops." She mutters and swiftly retrieves her keys from the floor. I take a good look at her and her arms hold quite an impressive amount of shopping bags. Rose walks over to me and dumps the bags on the couch next to my feet; I take one look then muffle a groan and hide my face into the blanket.

"Get up, we need to make you beautiful." She demands.

"What if I don't want to be?" I playfully moan. She smiles at me and then rummages through one of the bags quickly. After a moment, Rose delicately retrieves a medium blue dress, and holds it up for me to take in. It hits just above the knee, and is tailored to fit and hug curves, complete with a v-neck and a twist in the middle. (Check dress in profile) The dress is beautiful, but too beautiful for a woman like me. I make a face at Rose and she throws it at me.

"At least try it on, Bella," She sighs. I grumble and slowly get up from the sofa. I trudge into my bedroom, while Rose does the opposite by literally sprinting to hers. Just as I closed the door to my room, she raps a knock at it. "Oh! And one more thing!" She muffles outside my door. I open it and wait patiently for her to tell me something unnecessarily important. "I got this for you too." She shoves a push-up bra at me and grins evilly. I stare at the pearl pink bra, it was obviously made to highly accentuate some assets, and look up to shoot her a glare.

"This is ridiculous Rose, I'm not going to wear this thing." I began to hand it back to her when she scoffed,

"Bella, come on! This is a night where you get to look absolutely stunning, and anyway, you need to flaunt your curves, you hide them too much. Plus, every guy will be gawking at you tonight and I know you're in dire need of a good date after that stunt Romeo pulled a few weeks ago." I turn a thousand shades of red and my face goes hot with embarrassment.

"Loveyoubye." She jumbles her words, flashes me another smile and closes the door in my face. I sigh deeply and begin to change.

…………

I walk into the den with my dress on, curl my bare-footed toes and cross my arms. Rose is awaiting me, dressed in a stunning red v-neck dress with thick straps that does not leave even a centimeter of space on her Sports Illustrated body. Her platinum hair cascades down her back, visibly straightened for the occasion. (Check dress and hair in profile) Essentially, all I can say is that Emmett is going to be a very, _very _happy man tonight. I immediately become jealous at her beauty, but scold myself internally that not only is she my best friend, but a model. It was her profession to look stunning.

"Well?" I mumble. She looks at me and gasps.

"Isabella, why don't you ever listen to me!" She scolds. "You look amazing in that dress. I'm so glad I picked it, I almost went for a green one and then I was like, Bella actually may kill me."

I laugh and sigh. "Well, Rosalie, I suppose I do owe you a thank you." It's true, the dress did look decent on me. It happened to swish at the hem and the shade of blue complimented my complexion. It fitted and flared in all the right places, and as for the torso area, I was too highly embarrassed to comment. She beams at me and then points out,

"I told you the push-up bra would do you wonders." I turn beet red once again and mouth the words '_I hate you_' to her. Rose sticks her tongue out at me and gets up quickly.

"Okay, so now we need to do your make-up and hair!" She happily squeals. "And I got these for you too." She pulls out a set of silver heels and places them in my hands. They were beautiful shoes, but I much preferred my simple, classic and _shorter_ black pumps I frequently wore to work. But if I even think about trying to get out of this, I know I won't succeed. I slip the silver heels on and I grow four inches.

Just then, Rose grabs my hand and drags me into our large bathroom.

"Sit." She points at the toilet seat. I obediently do so and she commences with her magic.

…………

"Open your eyes." She breathes, and I do. My eyes grow wide as I stare at the woman in front of me. Her hair is cascading down in soft curls, and her skin is an endless plethora of cream and roses. Thick, black lashes frame the eyes that are staring back at me, and her lips are formed in a light pink pout. I turn to Rose and give her a wide smile. (Check hair in profile)

"Thank you, Rosie." I tease her with the nickname that Emmett christened her with.

"Oh, you're quite welcome, Bella Boo. And you'll be thanking me later too when you_ almost_ steal all of Alice's spotlight tonight." She winks at me and then the doorbell rings. I walk toward the front door and swing it open.

On the other side is the man that I sometimes refer to as my brother – sometimes because he's too silly for me to acknowledge at times. "Damn Bell, Rose sure had her way with you tonight!" Emmett booms. He grins wildly and then pulls me into a bear hug.

"Hey, Em." I roll my eyes. I open the door wider for him to step inside and take note of his attire. Rather than wearing his usual football shirts and accompanying set of sweats or casual jeans, he's sporting a light blue button-up with black dress pants, complete with a red tie. His black blazer is slung lazily over his right shoulder, and his short, curly hair isn't as sloppy today - it's actually combed neatly. Whoever transformed him from the bellowing, sports-watching, beer-drinking, pizza-eating man he is to this clean-cut fellow in front of me needs to get a raise. Maybe a double raise.

Rose appears in view and Emmett's eyes become as large as quarters. He half-sprints over to her and gives her his signature dimpled grin. Of course, she smiles coyly and him and he pulls her into a kiss that goes on for too long. I clear my throat impatiently out of amusement and irritation. They both look up at me and take a step away from one another out of clear embarrassment. A moment passes and my roommate has an epiphany.

"Emmett! You ruined my lipstick!" Rose scolds him. I stifle a giggle. It's true, he did mess it up – quite badly. Her lipstick is almost gone; rather, it transferred over to Emmett's lips. His lips are sloppily blotched with red lipstick and he sheepishly smiles. Rose groans and drags him to the kitchen sink to clean him up, then runs into the bathroom to apply a fresh coat of cherry red.

While Rose is busy in the bathroom, Emmett walks over to the den sofa and flops down on it. He grins at me and I take a seat next to him. My best friend's boyfriend of two years, Emmett McCarthy is quite possibly the most immature, yet one of the funniest people I know. It's absolutely unbelievable that he rakes in a successful income with an impressive and prestigious job as a sports reporter for Channel 6 News; just one look at this guy and you'd immediately think 'middle school football coach' or 'bartender.' Maybe even unemployed on his truly lazy days. The fact of the matter is that the man essentially lives here, the only reason Rose hasn't moved out into his apartment is because I'd probably kill myself out of clumsiness without an eyewitness – or as she likes to put it, a babysitter.

Emmett removes his blazer from his shoulder and swiftly flings it on before Rose walks back out into the den with a fresh coat of lipstick on. He rises from the sofa and I stand up with him before he booms,

"So ladies, shall we go?" He wraps an arm tightly around Rose's waist and slings his other arm casually over my shoulders. The both of us begin to giggle as he leads us toward the front door and to the elevator.

…………

After Rose, Emmett and I depart from his Jeep, he whips out his keys and locks it before stuffing them back into his pocket. He winds his arm around Rose's shoulders and kisses her temple. Alice's engagement party is at a ritzy venue, something I was not looking forward to. As we entered the premises, I take note of the over-hanging gossamer and several hundred people milling around – making sure to avoid the large, round tables set up around the white room. Alice went nuts with the roses, that's all I can say. Red, pink, white, black, every possible shade a rose can come in was in the room, set up to perfection, filling the tables, ceiling and decorative ornaments. Fabulous people in glitzy attire are socializing with a cocktail placed properly in their hand, and after scanning for another minute I finally spot the girl of the evening.

Alice Cullen, in a floor-length shimmery pink dress, complete with a sequined dark pink bodice and large bowtie placed on her sternum, is standing in the far corner of the room with her fiancé's arm draped lovingly around her. (Check dress in profile) Her dark pixie hair is styled into a chic cut, and her pearl necklace compliments her sparkling blue eyes. Alice is speaking to a girl who seems a tad familiar, but I can't put my finger on her identity. I turn to Emmett and Rose. She is talking to another girl, a co-worker I assume. Rose is one of Alice's models – this is how they met, and how the three of us came to be. Not intending to be rude, I politely interject.

"I'll catch you guys later?" I smile.

"Oh sure, Bell! Have fun, we'll find you when the dinner starts." Rose smiles and tugs on Emmett's arm after bidding farewell to her friend. Emmett waves goodbye and they are swept off into the heart of the party. As I waded my way through the crowd to reach Alice, I can't help but feel overwhelmed and insecure in the ocean of beautiful, glamorous people. My sister-like best friend is a fashion designer, working alongside names I don't know but the rest of the world does. All her clients, co-workers and bosses – all gorgeous and fabulous, stopped to looked at me. I blushed red and immediately hated myself for being the odd one out – the one person in the room who is not beautiful. The lawyer, the girl who wears only black and white to work, the one who barely knows Prada from Gucci. The girl who knows only facts and no creativity, and who has to have her roommate dress her. Of course they were staring at me.

Finally, I emerge from the sea and squeal Alice's name. She turns to me and her lips pull back into a wide smile. Her perfect, white teeth are glistening as she runs head on into me. We embrace in a large hug and I look down at her tiny frame, now boosted by 4 inches, compliments of her gold heels.

"I see you're now about 5'3, quite an improvement. Do you like being past the five foot mark?" I joke and she tinkles in laughter then playfully smacks my arm.

"Be quiet, Bella. I hate you." She sticks her tongue out at me and smiles.

"You look stunning, though." I interject and her smile widens.

"Thank you! And thank you so much for coming! But may I add, Bella, you look absolutely _phenomenal_." I blush and roll my eyes. Then, Jasper appears suddenly at her side in a blue, pin-stripe suit with matching dress pants gliding down his tall body. His tie is solid black, and his honey-blonde waves are tidied up neatly.

"Bella," He smiles warmly at me. "Thank you so much for coming. You look lovely." He places a hand on Alice's tiny shoulder. He looks kindly at me with his dark-blue eyes as Alice does the same with her light-blue ones. I kiss his cheek clumsily and gesture.

"Well how could I not attend!" Alice and Jasper's unified laugh rings in the air. "Congratulations, you two are beautiful together. Name the kid after me, okay? He or she'll be gorgeous." Again, their laughter floats in the air and they both smile widely at me.

"Bella, we have at least a thousand other people to attend but please, enjoy yourself. Thank you for coming, we love you very much." Alice coos and Jasper nods and smiles in response to his fiancée's comment.

As I turn around, I feel a pair of eyes on me. I shrug the feeling off and chat with old friends from Hamden and from the city of Seattle. Around an hour into the party, I was on my second cocktail and was just finishing up a conversation with an old friend of mine, Victoria. I begin to walk away after bidding her goodbye, when Rose walks up to me and takes a sip of my drink.

"Emmett's in the bathroom." She informs in a bored tone.

I giggle in response, and that's when I see him. Edward Cullen is standing twenty feet away from me, dressed in a black suit, matching dress pants and a silver tie. His hair is messy and untamed as usual, the way I love it. He was absolutely gorgeous. He has his right hand in his pocket as he's standing and chatting next to a strawberry blonde. I take one look at her and my stomach drops. I recognize her from Hamden, Tanya Volturi. She was that girl who had every guy wrapped around her finger, she was that girl who deserved to be on the cover of a magazine – the kind that you want to claw in the face simply because it wasn't fair. Her hair is curled into strawberry blonde ringlets, and she's sporting a flashy, silver mid-thigh dress with matching pumps. (Check dress and hair in profile) She's holding a martini and flips her hair casually, and a second later, the man I am shamefully in love with half-smiles at her. I feel as if my core has been ripped through the middle and I was now lying here in shreds.

"My, my. Isn't Romeo looking dapper tonight?" Rose says sourly.

"I don't want to talk about it." I mutter and she smirks.

"See you for dinner, I'm going to find the buffoon." She walks away and I down my drink a few seconds after.

I go to seek out a waiter for them to carry the glass away, but I took not more than five steps when a sandy-blonde man approaches me. He has very dark eyes and was indeed handsome, but not my taste whatsoever.

"Hi." He smiles wickedly at me.

"Hello." I say quietly. I brush my hand through my hair.

"Can I get you a drink?" He inquires. I hesitate, I wasn't entirely in a drinking mood, and if I did oblige, he could formulate this as me taking interest in him. Then again, if I said no, I would come off as terribly rude and I was already insecure about the crowd here. Then, he leans in and whispers into my ear.

"Please?" His breath tickles my ear and a shiver goes down my spine. He lingers for a bit and I blush pink then look at him hesitantly.

"Maybe one." I bite my lip. He takes my hand and leads me over to the bar, and I can feel a pair of eyes on me once again. As we're engulfed in the crowd, I catch a glimpse of Rose sitting next to Emmett at one of the tables. She catches a glance at me and her eyes widen, then she winks at me and gives me a crude thumbs-up. Once we arrive at the bar he orders me a drink, something complicated I didn't catch the name of, and I thank him with a smile. He leads me into the middle of the room and stands about three feet from me.

"So, what's your name?" He shifts his weight to his right leg.

"Bella. And who should I thank for this drink?" I hold my drink up and he smiles smugly.

"James. Bella…" He lingers. "That suits you incredibly well. It's ironic, actually, the way you look tonight." I blush and bite down on my lip. James was very good-looking and charming, but this didn't feel right.

"Thank you, James," I smile meekly. I try to avert the conversation and my head reels for things to say. "So," I begin. "How do you know Alice?" I sip my drink and peek up at him. A trace of irritation passes over his face before he composes himself.

"Jasper and I worked on a project together – we were partners for that new building on Twilight Street."

"Oh! Right, I know that building. So you're an architect, obviously." I feel more comfortable as the conversation has now directed to professions.

"Yes," He says evenly. "And what do you do, Bella?"

"I'm a lawyer." So, it was _kind_ of a lie, I wasn't an attorney but I did go to law school. Also, I didn't feel like discussing with him my position as a guardian ad litem. I wanted him to think I didn't have a heart. He raises his eyebrows and a devilish smile creeps up on his lips.

"So you're intelligent as well," He takes a step forward. "I bet you get what you want," Another step. He leans down. "And I bet you break hearts too." He murmurs and I take a half step back out of discomfort. I smile politely at him and tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.

"You know, I promised my friend I'd find her really soon, and I'm terribly sorry to be rude but she has no patience," I choke out a fake laugh and he narrows his eyes. His face is hovering down near my ear and I turn my head away some more. "Thank you very much for the drink, it was lovely speaking to you. I hate to leave like this but maybe we can catch up another time." I stammer but as I'm turning to leave, he grabs my arm.

"You do know," He half growls. "That you are the most beautiful girl in this room tonight. And I'm not going to let the most beautiful girl here get away from me that easily." My muscles freeze and I'm instantly terrified of the man. Something about him seemed off all night, and he says in a gruff voice, "I think we should have a dance together." He pulls me into a rough embrace and clamps his arms around my waist.

"Let go." I croak out. I struggle to push him away from me but he laughs darkly. Some people are starting to notice and turn to curiously look as he says loudly,

"Baby, come on. I already told you I'm sorry. Can we not fight tonight? It's such a lovely party. You know I love you." I begin to smack his chest as people chuckle lowly and turn away, now disinterested – thinking we are a couple having a simple fight. James bends down and skims his nose against my jaw line, and I whimper. After recollecting myself, I remember I'm wearing heels and give a prayer of thanks that Rose forced me to wear these ridiculous contraptions tonight. I grit my teeth and then stomp my right foot on his loafer and he yelps in pain. He lets me go and I detach myself from him, backing up a good several feet. He's staring at me, his eyes black as coal now.

"You _bitch_," He snarls. "I'll…"

"Excuse me," An angelic voice interjects. "How _dare_ you speak to my girlfriend that way." Edward appears at my side and his eyes are black as coal too, staring at James. His lip is pulled back into a snarl and his hands are clenched into white fists. James looks from Edward to me, then back to Edward.

"Keep your girl in line. She came on to me, man." James shrugs his shoulders innocently. A sound I've never heard before erupted from Edward's throat, his angelic features now hard and cold.

"Come, Bella." Edward says, shakily. I've never heard his musical voice lose composure before, and then fear consumes me again. He leads me by the arm, a staged acting scene, and walks me a good distance away from James. I wished that her were my boyfriend, swooping in to save me from the clutches of the antagonist. The pain in my stomach emerged once again and my heart fissured.

"Thank you," I whisper. He doesn't look at me, but he nods in comprehension. He jaw is tightened, and so are his fists. He's breathing deeply through his nose and his eyes have not ceased from the shade of black they turned while confronting James. His body is shaking with rage. "Should we press charges?" No answer. He's still trembling.

Without thinking, I touch my fingers gently against his jaw line. He turns to me and the look in his eyes is pure agony. His eyes go from black to green, and they soften, but they don't lose the look of pain in his eyes.

"Sorry…" I murmur, but before I can draw my fingers away, he brings his hand up to hold my own against his cheek.

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I never managed to find Rose and Emmett during dinner, so I sat with a few old friends from Hamden during that portion of the evening, and for the toasts as well. I watched Edward glide up to the front of the room as he toasted to his sister, who he apparently reconciled with. I saw Rose catwalk up to make a toast - I was a bit irritated that I wasn't sitting with her but it was too late to change tables - and soon after, it was my turn to toast my best friend.

The evening began to wind down and it was well past midnight. I was becoming increasingly exhausted and so were my feet in these heels, but I was still unsuccessful in locating Rose or Emmett. I texted them both but I got no response, so I sourly concluded that they had left early to retire to Emmett's apartment. I would kill Rose in the morning – she had assumed I went home with James. How did I know she assumed this? I knew her too well. I didn't have a ride home and I was too embarrassed to approach either Jasper or Alice – I wouldn't want to intrude on their blissful happiness from the successful evening. I was contemplating asking the Mrs. Cullen and the Doctor, but I decided against it. People were still milling around, none of them I knew, so I ambled over to an empty table and took my heels off. I flopped them onto the table next to my purse, and laid my head down as well in frustration.

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I woke up in an unrecognizable king-sized bed in an unrecognizable room. I jolted up and realized I was no longer wearing my dress, and that it was draped, along with my heels and purse, on a sleek, black sofa on the eastern side of the room. I surveyed the room and realized that it was one of those modern, chic and upscale residences that are frequently featured in furnishing magazines. I looked down at my body and noted that I was wearing a large t-shirt, which draped down mid-thigh. I clumsily got out of bed, and pulled my hair into a high ponytail. I was so confused that I managed to slip on the thick, modern rug and thudded on my side. I yelped and slowly got up to survey the damage – damn myself and my clumsiness. As soon as I got up, I lifted the t-shirt up to expose my left hip, bare belly and underwear. I can see a bruise beginning to form. Not even two seconds after, Edward Cullen walks into the room with nothing but a pair of striped boxers on.

My eyes widen at the sight of him, he was carved out of stone – that was my conclusion. His abdominal area is layered in thick, beautiful planes of muscles and his biceps flex as he tries to mat his untamed hair with his right arm. He looks at me with sleep in his eyes, but a second after they are wide, wide open. I drop the shirt into place in a hot flash and blush a furious shade of red. I was in Edward Cullen's apartment. The man I was irrevocably in love with, shamefully and pathetically in love with. I was in his apartment, making a hot mess out of myself and who even _knew_ what I or my hair looked like at the moment. We stand there staring at each other, but I'm becoming distracted from my shock and embarrassment as I stare at his God-like body. I want to kiss him all over.

"How did I get in here?" I meekly ask, breaking the silence. He composes himself and takes a step forward.

"I found you at one of the tables last night, asleep," He smirks. "I couldn't possibly let you stay overnight there." He jokes. I immediately turn red again and bite my lip. This couldn't get any worse.

"I'm so sorry." I blurted out. He chuckles.

"It's really okay, Bella." He looks at the ground and it goes quiet for a minute.

"Where did you sleep?" I inquire.

"On the couch." He shrugs. I become angry.

"Why! Oh, Edward you shouldn't have done that. I feel awful I mean –" I get cut off by him.

"Bella, stop. It's okay, really." He walks up to me and I open my mouth to speak again before he presses a finger to my lips. His half-naked body is inches from mine and I can feel his heat pooling out. The electricity in the small space between us zaps and zings, and my eyes widen.

"Do you want breakfast here, or do you want to go out?" He soothes.

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**Sorry for the delay guys! Thank you for reading**

**If you review, Edward will give you two hugs =)**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**

**I'd like to give a shout out to peace. love. and. edward for sticking with me the entire story. Thank you!**


	6. Vacillating Past & Present

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

Bella chose option one, so after our uncomfortable rendez-vous in my bedroom, I turn around to journey toward the kitchen. She sits down cautiously at the breakfast table and I plug in the coffee maker. I haven't bothered to change yet, I had another task in front of me: Bella. I'm putting the beans into the filter when I see Sam stirring out of the corner of my eye. He was curled up as tight as a cinnamon bun on the living room rug, and he lifts his head up lazily to peer at the stranger in our home. It's silent. My back is turned away from Bella, and I begin to drum my fingers against the counter top as I'm anticipating the dripping of the black liquid.

"So," Bella says softly. "Why is it that you always continue to save me?" I turn toward her and take note that she's leaning on her elbows, her head placed delicately between her two cupped hands. I chuckle and brush my fingers through my hair.

"Maybe it's you who continues to get yourself in trouble," I say, my face is set in stone. She scowls at me and then bites back a beautiful smile. "Pancakes or waffles?" I ask nonchalantly.

"Pancakes… please," I kneel down to retrieve a cooking pan from the counter cupboard, and when I stand upright again I snatch a spatula from the corner. Out of courtesy, I turn to Bella again. She leans back in her chair and looks around uncomfortably. I can see her hesitation and then she looks me dead in the eye. The tension could be cut with a knife, and out of nervous habit I run my fingers through my hair again. Her voice comes in a half-whisper, "Did you cheat on me with Tanya Volturi? Is that why you didn't call?"

All I was aware of was the clattering of the spatula as it hit against the floor tiles. The metal reverberated, and I had to grip the counter behind me with both hands. Her face goes wide white with shock, and she looks away, immediately becoming terribly engrossed with my wall.

"_What_?" The word comes out harsher and louder than intended. Sam runs over to me and begins to whine, but I ignore him. Bella obviously misunderstands my reaction and her face becomes engulfed in anger.

"Was it because I didn't have a trust fund?" She retorts. "Or a house off the Brazilian coast?" She angrily spits. As soon as she says the latter, it goes hauntingly silent. We both understand the repercussion of the comment and all that can be heard is the steady ticking of a clock somewhere close.

_It's almost spring break, and Alice decided to spend the two weeks with a friend in Oregon rather than coming with mother, father and I to our vacation home on the small island of Fernando de Noronha – roughly two hundred twenty miles off the coast of Brazil. My father managed to purchase ninety-percent of the territory on one of the islets, giving it to my mother as an anniversary present. Geographically, its name is Isle __Viúva, but my father insists that its 'proper' name is Isle Esme. _

"_What are you doing for break?" I whisper nonchalantly as I twirl a strand of Bella's hair. We're in psychology class, and she turns her chair toward me._

"_Nothing at all." She sighs softly. Our professor is giving the class a lecture on Freud and psychoanalysis._

"_What's Charlie doing?" I un-twirl the lock of hair and proceed to twirl it again._

"_The usual," She eyes me suspiciously. "Why?" We're still in whispers._

"_Oh, you know," I pretend to pout. "If he didn't need you around maybe he'd let you come to my vacation house with me." Bella's eyes go wide and her lips break out into a large smile._

"_You cannot be serious." She breathes. I just half-grin in response and she engulfs me in a large kiss. We're interrupted by our professor loudly clearing his throat and irritably threatening to move our seats._

_After my parents convinced Charlie Swan his daughter would not be killed or conceive a child during the course of spring break, we were in Brazil the next day. The journey to the main island required a boat ride, and the second trip to our isle required more transportation, via boat. After a rigorous and exhausting journey, my parents, Bella and I arrived at the white beach house. It consisted of two floors, large windows with blue shutters, a balcony, and a widow's walk. The surrounding environment was a turquoise ocean of perfection and white-yellow sand, leading up all the way to the front steps._

_Before we knew it, two weeks had passed. It was the last night on the isle, and the time I had spent with Bella was impeccable, amazing, beautiful, phenomenal - any word describing perfection. We spent the days basking in sun together, embarking on different adventures. And we spent the nights cuddling in bed. She would sneak up to my bedroom every night, after my parents retired to their own room, and curl up into my arms. We'd fall asleep together, me burying my face in her luscious hair and her subconsciously whispering my name in her sleep. Then, every morning at six, we'd wake up and sadly say goodbye, for she had to sneak back to her room. An hour later, we'd reunite and start another perfect day together. _

_Bella and I are sitting on the widow's walk; her curled up into my lap as my legs are lazily splayed out. We're silently watching the orange, red, pink, blue and purple the sky paints on the horizon as the sun is setting. I begin to smooth her mahogany hair and she nestles her head into the crook of my neck – a coincidentally perfect spot for her to perpetually stay in. I think about this notion for a few minutes and something stirs in me. I'm only eighteen, but I now know what I want in life. I want, no, I _need_ Bella. _

"_Bells." I croon softly._

"_Yes?" She dreamily murmurs, her eyes closed._

"_One day, we're going to live in a house like this." She lifts her head up and looks me in the eyes; they're glittering. My arms are still wrapped around her, but she wriggles so she can see my whole face._

"_Really?" Bella breathes. I chuckle and kiss the tip of her nose._

"_Yes, really. We'll get married," I say softly. "And we can have white counters, just the way you like them. We'll switch off cooking, and it doesn't matter if we have jobs or not. Screw that. Screw conformity. We'll sleep in too late and we won't be allowed to get out of bed before 10am. This is because we need to snuggle together in the morning – plus, I know you don't wake up before that time." I joke. But she doesn't smile. Her face is serious, so serious that I grow a bit uncomfortable._

"_And we'll love each other forever," She adds in a whisper. "We'll have food fights, and I'll listen to you play the piano for hours. If we argue, we get over it quick, because there's no room for that," She smiles slightly but then composes herself again. "And we'll have a pretty, pretty baby." She looks at me and I smile so hard it almost hurts. Almost, because nothing could hurt me in a moment like this. _

"_I promise." I declare. She kisses me in acceptance, and we don't stop until the sky is black and littered in shining specks._

We're staring at each other in seething anger and then she buries her face in her hands. The woman I'm in love with, who I owe a promise, who I'm supposed to be unconditionally angry at, is crying in my apartment kitchen. I kick the spatula on the floor aside and make my way over to her. Then, I do something that shocks myself; I pull Bella into my lap and hum her the lullaby that has been locked away, in a dusty chamber, for eight years.

**BPOV**

I briskly walk into the courthouse, my black pumps clanging against the hard floors. As soon as I close the doors behind me, I take note of the people in the room. Judge Weber, Rebecca Black, Elizabeth Black, Edward Cullen and Sam are all present.

"She filed a lawsuit against you, Mrs. Black. This is a litigation." Edward says evenly, through his teeth. His arms are crossed and it's apparent he and Rebecca Black are concurrently involved in a tiff.

"I understand that but she's my _daughter_. She told me she changed her mind." Rebecca Black retorts in a matter-of-fact tone. Judge Weber, dressed in shorts and Adidas sports sandals crosses his arms at this. Sam whines.

"Is this true?" Edward turns to his client.

"I don't know…" Elizabeth says meekly. She peeks at her mother, abundantly obvious she fears her.

"You're wasting my time and energy here if you're going to pull out. My bank account is receiving nothing for this, and I'll be damned if you're flaking. Are you still my client, Elizabeth?" He says in a sour tone. Her mother shoots him a petulant glance but he's still staring intently into Elizabeth's eyes.

"Are you still my lawyer?" She spits.

"Only if you're willing to follow through." Edward narrows his eyes.

"Then I am." Mrs. Black opens her mouth to say something but Judge Weber holds his hand up.

"Mrs. Black, may Ms. Swan and I have a word with Elizabeth in private?" Everyone in the room turns to look at me and I blush slightly. Mrs. Black scoffs but Edward gives her a venomous look.

Elizabeth and I are walking shoulder-to-shoulder, following Judge Weber into a private room.

"Hey." I whisper to her.

"Hey."

"How was your weekend?" I inquire. She shrugs.

"I spent the weekend visiting Leah in the hospital. How was yours? You look really pretty today by the way." I smile warmly at her.

"It was okay, I went to my friend's engagement party. You look really pretty today too." She gives me a toothed smile and I look her over. She's wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, simple, black sandals, and a cream blouse. Her hair is hanging loose today and it's apparent that she's slowly merging into the body of a woman.

"How was the party?" She whispers.

"Interesting. Kind of complicated, actually." She raises her eyebrows.

"Was it guy troubles?" She teases. If only she knew how right she is. "And aren't you going to ask how the hospital was?" I blush at her boldness.

"How was the hospital?" I ask meekly. She shrugs again.

"Boring, the same. Leah was stable all weekend so that was good." We enter a room and Judge Weber closes the door behind us.

"Ladies," He addresses us. "As you both know, Elizabeth here," He gestures to her. "Filed a lawsuit against her parents three weeks ago. The matter at hands now is whether or not she's stable enough to actually follow through with the case. Normally, this is not required of a guardian ad litem, but this is an exception," He hesitates. "Her mother does not think so, yet her lawyer does."

"Elizabeth," I soothe. "Is this really what you want to do?" She hesitates for a moment but then stands up straight and confident.

"Yes. Yes, it is." She looks the judge dead in the eye. He turns toward me.

"Bella, may I have a word with you alone?"

"Of course, Your Honor." I respond. Elizabeth shuffles outside and closes the door behind her. Judge Weber turns to face me.

"She is thirteen years old, and thirteen year olds are heavily influenced by their mothers. We all know that we're going to waste our time if she continues to live under the same roof as the opposing attorney. Of course, I'm not implying anything, it just makes your job harder if she's swaying in between conclusions every other day." I cross my arms and shift my weight.

_It's simple. I'll have Rebecca Black removed from the house_. Edward's comment a few weeks ago echoes through my head and I bite my lip.

"I don't have a decision on her mental stability yet, Judge. Young teenagers do not have the capability to administer a large decision, such as the one we face here, on their own. Everyone around them, even their environment, influences them. There is no doubt in my mind that Elizabeth is adamant on seeking medical emancipation - she's set on that. What she is indecisive about, however, is whether or not she can follow through with killing her sister." I stare at the floor and so does Judge Weber.

"We'll continue with the case," He says evenly. "But we can't schedule a hearing for another three or four months – the courthouse is just too booked. This is not good news for two reasons: the press will catch wind of this, and on the day of the trial it will be utter mayhem. Second, this gives Mrs. Black three or four months to potentially change the mind of her daughter, initially wasting all of our time." He leans against the desk in the room and I tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. I wouldn't let the poor girl live without her mother for a couple of months, enemy or not.

"Can you order that Rebecca Black is legally forbidden to discuss the case with her daughter within their home? Outside of the courthouse, they are not allowed to speak to one another regarding the litigation." I'm attempting everything in my power to prevent a restraining order. Judge Weber scratches his chin momentarily then gives me one, curt nod.

"That can be done. I'll order this today." I sigh in relief and smile at him. He returns the smile and then puts a hand on my shoulder, proceeding to lead me out the door. When I walk outside, I walk side by side with Elizabeth again. She looks at me.

"So," She starts. I look at her, anticipating. "When are you and Mr. Cullen going to get together?" I immediately go red and bite my lip.

"What makes you so sure that we're supposed to get together?" I shakily inquire.

"Because you guys look each other like you want the other. It's kind of cute, but if you two go another day pretending you don't like each other I'll go mental." I go a thousand shades redder and we walk back to the courtroom in silence.

When Elizabeth, Judge Weber and I reenter the courtroom, Mrs. Black runs up to her daughter. Elizabeth hugs her mother.

"Baby, you don't have to do it. We can forget about it, drop it all. Daddy and I won't be mad at you, we'll just forget about it. You don't have to do it anymore, well give you what you want." Mrs. Black has tears in her eyes and we are all witnessing in silence. Elizabeth begins to cry and hugs her mother harder.

"Really, mom? Really?"

"Yes, baby. We'll just stop it all." Elizabeth smiles through her tears.

"No more transplants or surgeries? No kidney?" It goes so quiet that no knife could cut the silence. Not even a chainsaw.

"Well… your sister needs the kidney, I meant the lawsuit… Do this for your sister," Her mother looks away. "Please." She chokes on the last word and Elizabeth steps away. She won't look at Rebecca.

"I _am_ doing this for my sister." Her mother looks at her horrified.

"By _killing_ her?" She's standing there shocked. Elizabeth won't look her in the eye when she says,

"This is for her."

**One Month Later**

"So do you like Edward Cullen because _he's_ an asshole or because you like the prospect of assholes?" Rose casually asks as we're lounging on the couch. It's a Friday night and we both decided to stay in, although I hadn't bothered to change out of my work clothes – a knee-length black dress. I threw a pillow at her.

"Do you like Emmett because he's a buffoon or because you like them in general?" Now it's her turn to throw a pillow at me. Over the past month, it was not uncommon for Edward and I to interact civilly during work; if he was going to be my colleague I figured we could at least be somewhat receptive to one another. "And," I added. " I don't like him."

"You're a terrible liar. It's not even funny." Rose points out and props her legs on me. I roll my eyes and avert my attention to the movie that's playing.

"I was hoping you could be sympathetic about him." She takes her legs off me.

"About Edward Cullen? I'm not sympathetic about him, I'm apathetic about him." She picks up a nail-polish bottle on the coffee and unscrews the top. I scowl at her.

"Maybe you have a gene that attracts you to jerks." She shrugs.

"I _want _to hate him, Rose." I prop my legs up on the same coffee table as she begins to paint her nails.

"I have a feeling 'strictly professional' was abolished a long time ago." She's applying a second coat of polish on the nail of her index finger.

"Because it's like… It's like we're picking up where we left off." I hug a throw pillow to my chest.

"You never forget your first," She points out. "It's like, programmed into your brain. Maybe you should sue your memory cells." She jokes.

"It's just so easy with him." I sigh.

"Why don't you just screw him and get it out of your system?" She nonchalantly says, still focusing on painting her nails.

"No!" I retort.

"Why? Because you're afraid he's going to walk away the next morning?" Yes. "Edward Cullen may be gorgeous but he has the heart of a block of ice."

"You think he's gorgeous?" I ask.

"See," She rolls her eyes. "You're pathetic. No, actually, you're doomed," The doorbell rings and she blows air onto her nails. Rose gets up and peers through the eyehole. "Speak of the devil." She mutters. My heart beats a little faster.

"It's Edward?" I ask then hesitate. "Tell him I'm not here." Rose opens the door and pokes her head around.

"Bella says she's not here."

"I'm going to kill you." I hiss. I walk up behind her and push her out of the way before undoing the chain and opening the door fully. I let Edward and his dog in and he crosses his arms.

"The reception here is fantastic. I love how inviting you both are." He smirks.

"Edward, what do you want?" I cross my arms with Rose next to me.

"I'm taking you out to dinner. We're going to discuss Elizabeth's case." He flicks a nonexistent dust particle off his jacket.

"I'm not going out to dinner with you!" I retort.

"Yes, you are. Plus, I know you too well. As much as you'd hate to be sipping wine with me right now, you want to know what's going on with Elizabeth and her mother." He looks at me smugly and Rose begins to laugh.

"He _does_ know you, Bella." She laughs. I scowl in response.

"Anyway," He says. "If you don't want to come, I'll have to use force, except it won't be as pleasant if I have to cut your food for you while your hands are tied behind your chair." A smile is playing at the corner of his lips and Rose is biting her lip, trying to prevent one. I turn to her.

"Help me." I beg.

"Maybe there's hope." She responds.

"I'm serious." I say. She laughs and pushes me out the door.

…………

"Hi." He says.

"Hi." I mutter. I'm sitting in the passenger seat of his car while the dog is in the backseat.

"You look nice." He says. I make an incoherent grumble as a form of 'thank you'. He chuckles. After a few moments of silence, I recognize the place we've pulled into.

"Why are we at your apartment, Edward?" I ask sourly.

"Stop being so stubborn." We go up the elevator and are outside his door. He pulls out a key and unlocks the door, opens it and Sam trots inside. Edward gestures for me to enter first, so I amble in and turn around to face him. Just as he closes the door, I cross my arms.

"What's going on?" I raise an eyebrow."

"I'm here to take advantage of you then chop you into pieces." He muses. I scowl at him.

"This," He's pulls out a folder. "And," He takes a few steps toward the kitchen. "This." He points to the table and there is a dinner laid out for two. My heart melts into his hands and I am no longer Bella Swan, I am now whatever he wants me to be, I am his.

…………

After filet mignon and one too many glasses of wine, I bring my knees to my chest and sip my current glass.

"Remember," I reminisce. "When you pretended you didn't know calculus so I could tutor you?" He laughs loudly.

"Yes, oh, that was great," He lifts his glass. "And I had to end up tutoring _you_." We laugh in unison and it's a beautiful sound. I finish my glass and then bring it down onto the table. By this point, I'm a tad intoxicated.

"Let's watch a movie." I half-sing. He laughs and gets up to put our plates and glasses into the sink. Sam is curled up into a ball by the couch and I walk over to it. After sprawling myself onto the couch, Edward comes over and says,

"Move." I sit up and move over to make room for him. He clicks on the television and some random movie is playing. I wasn't aware of the name because the only thing I was aware of was Edward sitting about a foot from me. About five minutes into the movie, he laughs at a joke that was made. I turn to look at him.

"I haven't seen you laugh this much in a long time," I point out. It was a bold comment, something I would never say if it weren't for the small amount of alcohol in my system. "I don't get why you changed." It goes silent and I immediately want to take it back - to snatch my comment and burn it into ashes.

"Bella," he says evenly. "Just shut up." And then he cups my face and kisses me so hard that I can't breathe. When he pulls away, his eyes grow as big as quarters and he immediately pulls away, ashamed. He averts his gaze and won't look at me. Then, I do something I've been dreaming of doing for the past eight years; I tangle my fingers into his untamed hair and kiss him back so passionately that he has to grip onto my hips to steady himself.

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**Thank you guys for reading! Your support means so much to me, you have no idea.**

**Edward will continue to hug you if you review!**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	7. Seeing Green

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**Rebecca POV**

When you have a dying daughter, you do everything in your power to save her – right? But what if it wasn't enough? What if all the parental love in the world couldn't save your little girl? What if in the process you lose everything else?

Every time I look at Leah tied down to her hospital gurney, her arms attached to countless IVs, her pale, leukemia skin blending in with the white walls of the room, I see my husband. Her pale blue eyes are replicas of his, and every time she smiles in her fight, I see the corners of Billy's lips upturned. My replica, my little duplicate, has already lost his fight. But that's a sacrifice Billy and I had to make a fight to save _his_ duplicate.

When Leah was nine, I heard her consistent screams echoing from the second-floor bathroom, and when I busted the door open I stand there to find her blood running down her legs, her underpants soaked through. Billy got the kids and car, and we sped to the emergency room so fast we would have had totaled another car if it weren't for the fact it was two-thirty in the morning. Dr. Cullen walks into the room, the impossibly handsome and youthful-looking doctor. He couldn't be more than forty, I was somewhat certain his children were between seventeen and nineteen. Regardless, the man looks like he just hit thirty. He sits down soundlessly on a chair across from Billy and I.

"Clinical relapse," Dr. Cullen says grimly. "I'm afraid the only option left is to give her a bone marrow transplant." He fidgets with his red tie.

"But you said those were dangerous." Billy interjects. The doctor looks down then back to us.

"They are, only fifty-percent of patients who receive BMTs survive, they'll either be cured or die from complications regarding chemo and radiation." Billy and I look at each other.

"Is there any other way?" I ask evenly. "I'm not going to put my daughter's life on the line for a half chance." Dr. Cullen looks from my husband to me, and then finally rests his eyes on mine.

"Mrs. Black," He starts. "If we don't try, your daughter _will_ die." Silence.

As soon as Dr. Cullen leaves the room, Billy and I turn to look at one another again. The fear and tension between us begins to bubble.

"Rebecca," He says. "You said cord blood was all we would ever need from Elizabeth."

"You're asking for your daughter to die." I say angrily.

"But it's not fair for the other one." He says quietly.

…………

Elizabeth was only six at the time, and Billy and I had conveyed to her that she was helping her sister by giving her a gift.

"Okay! What gift?" She chirps.

"It's from inside you," I point to my belly. "So you'll be part of her forever." Billy smiles in encouragement and Elizabeth blinks in confusion, and then finally nods in agreement. Two days pass in normal fashion, but the knowledge between my husband and I was enough to rip the house from the foundation.

"Leah! It's time to go!" The day of the transplant had arrived, and the insurance company handled a portion of the fee while Billy's department had donated the rest.

"Just a minute." I hear her muffled voice from within her room. I knock on the door impatiently but she doesn't answer. Finally, I twist the knob and let myself into a room I don't recognize. The cleanliness is immaculate; I can't even spot a fleck of dust. Everything is in precise order, and I see Leah straightening out a pillow on her bed.

"I didn't ask you to do this, sweetie." I lean against the doorframe.

"I know," She says quietly. "It's if I don't come back."

…………

The anesthesiologist wipes a gauze pad over an oxygen mask. Elizabeth is sporting a hospital dress that is too large for her tiny body, and she's sitting upright on the medical gurney. She is covered in gel pads; these are used to monitor her heart and breathing when they draw bone marrow from her pelvic bone. My daughter plays with the hospital admittance bracelet on her right wrist, and Dr. Cullen approaches us after writing something down on a clipboard.

"Elizabeth," He soothes. "Have you ever fallen asleep on a bed of clouds?" She shakes her head in response and he gently places the oxygen mask over he face. "Can you breathe in deeply for me?" The doctor soothes and in a matter of minutes, her breathing is even and her grip on my hand slackens. I kiss her forehead, my medical mask being a barrier between our skin, and exit the room.

When the procedure is over, I briefly catch a glimpse of Dr. Cullen walking out with a clear bag of ruby red blood. My heart flutters and a sense of hope spreads from my fingertips to my toes.

I'm in Leah's room and she's reacting normally to the chemo – vomiting continuously within the hour. I hold the light green basin under her chin for the fifth time in thirty minutes when Billy walks into the room.

"Elizabeth is asking for you." I look down at my first daughter, who is hurling hydrochloric acid into the basin my hands are holding, and look at the door. I cannot be at two places in one time.

"I'm busy, Billy." I continue to hold the basin for Leah and my husband comes over to smooth her hair back.

"Elizabeth is asking for you." He repeats. After a moment too long, I nod and hand the basin to Billy. Leah's face is streaked with tears and she wipes her nose before she throws her head into the basin again. I find myself in Elizabeth's pediatric room, her crying her eyes out.

"Mommy," She wails. "Mommy it hurts." I sit down on the bed next to her.

"I know, sweetie. But Leah is sick, I have to go back."

"It hurts," She repeats. "Please stay, mommy," Her cries continue and I smooth her hair down. "_I'm_ in the hospital now. I'm in the hospital!" _I know_. I want to say to her. _I know, but _you're _not dying._ A second later, Billy enters the room and sits down next to me.

"Elizabeth, you were so brave." He says softly. Then, he pulls out a locket and places it around her neck. A symbol of recognition for helping save her sister's life, it's obvious and simple, but frankly, it never crossed my mind. It was her obligation, not an honorable act of bravery.

**Jacob POV**

When I was eleven, my mom promised me that we would go out and buy new cleats – soccer tryouts were in two days. And then, the day she promised we'd go, Leah relapsed and my parents were in and out of the hospital. Mom, Dad, Elizabeth and I were home one evening with the missing piece still in the hospital.

"Mom," I start. "Can we get my soccer cleats now?" She looks at me, but she's not really looking at me. Her eyes are hollow and she's staring right through me.

"Now's not a good time, Jake." She sighs exasperated.

"But you promised!" I retort. She looks at me again with the same, hollow look.

"Ask your father." She responds robotically. I find my father in the living room, pretending to watch a Mariners game.

"Dad, can we go out and get cleats?" He mutes the game and slowly turns to me. I can see in his eyes that he sports the same, hollow look. He looks right through me as well but smiles apologetically.

"Sorry, son. Maybe some other day, right now isn't a very good time. Try mom tomorrow." I nod in comprehension and exit the room. The next day, I approach my mother after she just entered the house from a hospital visit.

"Mom, can we get some cleats now?" She just stares at me.

"No." She starts to walk into the kitchen and I follow.

"Why? You promised!" I shout angrily.

"I said no." She responds in the same robotic tone she used on me last night.

"You broke your promise. Why _not_!" I seethe. My mom turns around to face me.

"Why? _Why?_ Because Leah is in critical condition and I can't be going out buying you cleats. Stop being so _selfish_, think about your family. Just stop it, Jacob." She screams through her teeth at me. It's silent for a moment in our kitchen.

"Why don't _you_ stop being so selfish. You've been so busy tending to Leah all your life that you forgot you had other children. Elizabeth and I aren't dying, but we may as well be dead. We're invisible to you. _You_ stop being selfish." I say in a low voice. Then, I walked away from her.

I ran away to downtown Seattle, and began to walk aimlessly around. I wanted to test how invisible I was, and as I walked along the sidewalks, passing a plethora of people, not one of them looked at me. They all stared straight ahead, making their way around me. I realized how invisible I am, and that night, I detached myself from my family.

…………

My room is actually on top of the garage, not part of the rest of the house. Ha, the ironic symbolism. My parents give me my privacy and I give them theirs. They understand I'm involved in incriminating activities, but they prefer to go on pretending like I don't. I'm lounging in my room, well what would have been a room if you could see the floor. A crock-pot, complete with a copper wire sprouting from the top, is sitting on my rickety television. I make my way over to it and dip a small amount of the concoction into a cup. I take a good swig and crumple the plastic cup, then drop it to the floor. The warm and fuzzy feeling spreads from my core to my limbs, spreading so slowly that I sigh in content. Ah, the affects of moonshine. Just then, I hear a car pull up in our driveway and I peer out my single window. I see Bella Swan, that really hot lawyer – or whatever she is, parking her vehicle. I make my way down the stairs, into the garage, and out the side door.

"Hey," I walk over to her. She's standing outside her car looking up at the house. "Did you miss me?" She laughs lightly at this.

"Believe it or not, I _am_ here to speak to you," Imaginary violins begin to play and angels chorus in a glorious, a cappella song. "It's about Elizabeth, though." The violins screech to a stop and some of the angels throw out a string of profanities. Nonetheless, I lean against her car and cross my arms so my biceps flex. Then, I flash her a grin that's stopped quite a few girls in my time.

"What are you doing tonight?" She stares at me like I've spoken Chinese. Hell, she probably does know Chinese. And Greek and Italian and every goddamn concurrent and ancient language known to linguists and sociologists.

"Are you asking me on a date?" She raises an eyebrow. She crosses her arms which, holy Jesus, accentuates her chest.

"I'm sure as hell trying." I grin at her some more and there's amusement in her eyes.

"And you're sure as hell failing," She responds in a flat tone. "I'm old enough to be your mother, Jacob."

"Please," I coo. "Do call me Jake," She rolls her eyes. "How old are you? You can't be more than twenty-five. I'm legal age now, anyway." I waggle my eyebrows and she laughs.

"I'm one-hundred eight years old."

"You have amazing eyes," I say casually, flexing my biceps some more. By eyes I mean breasts. She takes this moment to button her blouse all the way up, causing me to laugh out loud. "Come on, let's go have our nice chat." I lead her up to my room and take note it's not as bad as usual. The dishes are only about three days old and the spilled cereal hasn't gone visibly stale yet. You can see a square foot of the floor, and the piles of clothes aren't mountains at the moment – more like hills. The spilled milk in the corner is only about a day old and the bucket of gas and a dirty rag are pushed up against the west wall – not sitting in the middle of the room.

"It should be in a furnishing magazine, right?" She crinkles her nose.

"It smells like a jock strap in here." I laugh out loud again.

"I try." She takes a seat on the couch, but there's a crunching sound as she lands on a handful of stale chips. She stands up and cranes her head so she can see the culprit, and turns around to brush off the broken chips. Good God, there was a grease stain imprinted on her sweet, sweet ass. She brushed it one last time and the angels started singing again. Then, she sits down once again and I head over to my fridge.

"Want a drink?" I pull out a beer and wave it.

"I'll pass, thanks." She looks around.

"Hey, you can't say my mother never taught me manners." I say as I pull out a beer for myself and crack it open. She smiles at this and shakes her head in humor. I make my way over to her and sit down – way too close. I did this on purpose. I take a swig of my beer and look at her.

"What's that?" She points, curious and concerned at my crock-pot.

"Moonshine. Want some?" She makes a face and then shakes her head.

"You may be juvenile, but you _are_ brilliant."

"Hear, hear." I raise my beer and take another swig.

"So," She starts. "Do you get along with Leah and Elizabeth?" I shrug.

"Like any other sibling relationship, I guess."

"What was it like growing up in this family?" She looks at me. I don't answer her for a minute, and then I silently pull out my pack of cigarettes and light up.

"What was it like growing up in this family?" I repeat the question and exhale smoke. "There's a system," I continue in a sour tone. "Leah is The Martyr, Elizabeth is The Peacekeeper and I'm The Lost Cause," I take a drag of my puffer and exhale smoke through my nose. "When I was twelve, Leah relapsed again on Christmas Eve. Of course Leah couldn't help it, but Elizabeth had to go with them to the hospital because she was donating granulocytes. They dropped me off at some neighbor's house, and all night they looked and whispered about me like I was some goddamn charity case. I got sick of that crap so I snuck out and came back here," I pointed to the front yard. "I chopped down this little spruce tree and carried it inside. Then, I decorated it with ornaments and lights – the whole shebang," I exhale smoke again. "And when they came back, they found me here. My presents were discounted items from the hospital gift store. And," I press the butt of the cigarette against the couch and make a small hole in it. "They didn't say anything about the tree. That's what it was like growing up in this family." I look at her sourly.

"Is it the same for Elizabeth?" She asks softly.

"No. No, Elizabeth is part of the game plan. She's the key factor to Leah's battle."

"When do your parents decide when Elizabeth donates medically to Leah?" Bella Swan is scribbling some notes onto a legal bad.

"You ask like there's a _choice_." I laugh darkly. She stops writing to look up at me.

"Isn't there?" She inquires, confused. I ignore her, not out of discourtesy, but because it's a rhetorical question.

**EPOV**

Bella consumes my thoughts. Utterly and shamefully consumes every ounce of thoughts my brain can conjure. Last night, she pulled away from our kiss, causing me to feel irritated, perplexed and disappointed. She was right there, on my lips, our breaths mingling. I had pressed my body against hers but then she pulled her face away from mine.

"I'm sorry." She mumbled, not looking at me, and then she detangled herself from me. I unwillingly dropped my hands from her waist and scooted back a foot or two. Because I am a gentleman, I drove her home without a word, my heart breaking even more with every foot my car gained to her apartment. I returned home to my own and dreamt of Bella Swan. I woke up and sat there, thinking of the same woman. Why did she pull away? _She had someone else. She didn't love me anymore._ Of course. I deserved this; I had broken her heart. Goddamn karma. Something stirred in me and I suddenly didn't care anymore. I would win her back, no matter how long it would take me. She could be engaged for all I care, I would get her back.

**One Month Later**

Bella has been ignoring me for the past month. The pieces of my heart have been smashed into particles so small that you probably need a microscope to see them. Every time I attempted speaking to her, she either disregarded me or walked away. When we were forced to speak, concerning the trial, her responses would be curt and icy. I've decided I can't do this anymore, it's too emotionally deteriorating - but I won't lose this battle. The past eight years of my life have been vapid spans of time, and I repudiate any notion of spending the rest of it this way. Then, I do something spontaneous. I pick up my cell phone and hit the speed dial.

"Hello?" Alice sings into the phone.

"I need your help." I sigh. I can practically see her smile on the phone.

"I knew you'd ask _someday_."

…………

Fifteen minutes later, Alice and Jasper are sitting on my apartment sofa. My sister is perched delicately in her fiancé's lap, and this no longer bothers me. The past two months I've spent enough time with the both of them to know that they are in love and Jasper is a decent man with good intentions. I lean back lazily into the loveseat.

"I still can't believe he didn't get you a pink one." I muse, pointing to her two-carat canary yellow diamond engagement ring. It's very flashy, very Alice. My sister tinkles in laughter but Jasper interjects,

"After she said yes she punched me for getting her yellow." He jokes and the three of us laugh. Alice hops up from Jasper's lap, clasps her hands behind her back and paces back and forth between.

"Okay boys, we all know why we've assembled here today," I have to hold back a snort. "There's a mission that must be completed." Jasper points out,

"Alice, dear, you're sounding like my father." Jasper's father was a general in the Vietnam War, and hereditary militarism runs deep in his veins. Alice makes a face at him.

"Minus Rose, the people who know Bella best are all sitting in this room right now. You," She points to Jasper. "Have known her all her life. As for me, she's my non-biological sister. Last but no least, you," She now stops pacing to look me in the eye. "Know her better than _anyone_," She adds under her breath. "But you were too stupid to let her go and if you didn't we wouldn't have to go through this mess." I pretend I didn't hear her last comment.

"I don't know what to do." I groan and then bury my face in my hands. Alice flits over to me and starts to rub the muscles on my back, causing my shoulders to uncoil in tension.

"We'll fix this." She soothes.

"How? She doesn't love me anymore." I sigh into my hands again. Sam trots over and nudges my knee.

"Actually, Edward. She's very stubborn and we all know that. She could just be pretending she doesn't love you." Alice says.

"But she pulled away from me!" I'm considering bashing my head against the coffee table. Alice continues to assuage my back and my thoughts.

"Edward," Jasper sighs. "Stop being so full of angst it's making you tense. Just be calm and we'll figure out a rational solution for this," Alice stops rubbing my muscles and places her small hands delicately on my large shoulders. "We can always make her jealous." She mutters to more of herself than to me.

"That won't work," Jasper shakes his head. "She's very emotional about those kinds of things."

"You think everyone's emotional, Jazz," Alice sighs. He shrugs in response. "Why don't we just make you look dashing and put a sexy girl on your arm? It's a classic."

"I don't want to hurt Bella." I grumble. Alice sighs again and taps her foot against the floor.

"Why don't you just tell her how you feel, tough guy?" Alice says flatly.

"I… can't." I grumble. "It's complicated." She rolls her eyes and dances back over to Jasper, taking a seat in his lap.

"What if I convince her to go on a blind double date with Jasper and I and the person ends up being you?" I make a face at her.

"That sounds so pathetic, me cowering and then popping out with flowers. 'Hi, I'm your blind date.' She'd hit me." Alice's face clouds over, but then lights up and she gets excited.

"What if I set her up with an atrocious date, so bad that she'll quite possibly flee from the place? I have connections. Jasper and I can double date with her and then _you_," She points to me. "Can coincidentally be on a date in the very same restaurant with someone terribly beautiful but possess a vacuous mind."

"It could work." Jasper says simply and wraps his arms around Alice's waist.

"I'll get you a girl who doesn't know the difference between the digestive and immune systems. I work in this industry; very rarely do you find a model that can tell you the proper answer to 'five times nine'. I _know_ this'll work." My sister stares at me in anticipation and I throw up my hands and shrug in defeat. She begins to sporadically clap and bounces up and down in Jasper's lap. Sam whines loudly and looks up at me.

"Yes, she's always like this." I mutter to him while I scratch his head.

…………

I find myself outside the apartment door of a girl I've never met before. I knock twice, and then take a step back. Sam looks up at me and I shrug. A moment later, a very tall - around five foot ten - girl opens the door. She has medium-length dirty blonde hair and grey eyes. Obviously a model, I take note of what she's wearing. She has on a zebra print mini tunic dress, resting high on the collarbone and the sleeves stopping three-fourths of the way down her arms. This would normally be acceptable attire except for the fact that her dress covers her rear-end by _maybe_ two inches. (Check dress in profile) One blow from the wind and this girl wouldn't have a chance. Her lack of dress and high black pumps accentuate her model-esque legs, but I would absolutely annihilate Alice for setting me up with a borderline prostitute. Of course, she was very good-looking, but not even _close _to my type.

"Oh my gosh, hi." He eyes grow huge, and I internally sigh at this. This is the epitome of a reaction I receive from most women, and quite frankly, it's tiresome.

"Hello, I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Edward Cullen." I say and then smile politely at her. She doesn't respond for a moment, and stands there staring at me – stunned. Then, she snaps out of her trance.

"Hi, I'm Lauren Mallory," She shoots me a lovely smile, the type that would melt most men's hearts but it doesn't affect me. "Oh look! Puppy!" She croons. She holds her hand out to pet Sam but I intervene.

"I'm sorry, he's a service dog. They can't be pet." She pouts and crosses her arms.

"What do service dogs do? Do they like, _say_ to you when to cross the road?" I hold back a laugh out of courtesy.

"No, they only tell deaf people that." The look on her face indicates she doesn't understand my joke.

"Oh. So, like, are you deaf?" This was going to be a _long_ night.

…………

I arrive at New Moon, Mr. Whitlock Sr.'s restaurant, with Lauren and Sam in tow. Deeming that it's Saturday night, the venue is somewhat crowded but Alice set up reservations for me.

"Sorry, no dogs, sir." The teenage waiter eyes Sam.

"He's a service dog." I reply curtly.

"But you're not blind." He points out.

"I had no idea, thank you for the epiphany. I'm a vampire, the dog tells me when your blood starts to smell good." Lauren laughs for a little too long and I can feel a headache forming. The waiter, now uncomfortable, sits us down at a table. We order red wine and steak.

We're three tables away from Alice's table – perfect. As I get settled in my seat, I take note my sister is wearing a strapless, knee-length silhouette dress with some complicated and ridiculous pattern on it. (Check dress in profile) Her fiancé has a classic white button-up, and finally, I turn to Bella. She's wearing a strapless white and blue-layered mid-thigh cocktail dress, with a high-wasted cinched black belt and a matching pair of black oxford booties. (Check dress in profile) I need to seriously pay Rose for consistently dressing Bella to perfection. Her date is an absolute joke. His blonde, spiky hair makes him look like a silly, immature frat boy and his attire is nowhere near acceptable. His sloppy grey button-up is not tucked in, and is he wearing jeans? I snap about of my criticism, I realize ripping Bella's date to pieces will not win her back. I avert my attention back to Lauren.

"So, Lauren," I coo. "Do you model for Alice?" I take a sip of my wine and she blinks at me several times before composing herself.

"Yeah! I love Alice; she's like, _so_ nice. It was so nice of her to set me up with you. I had no idea her brother was so _handsome_." She flashes me a smile and I politely smile back. Good grief, she's already trying to hit on me. We haven't even been sitting for three minutes.

"You look lovely yourself." I respond monotonously. Five minutes later, the conversation has been struggling. I cannot converse with this woman. I look up and try to dissect what's going on with Alice's table. Alice and Jasper are holding hands, laughing in unison about something. Her ring glints in the candlelight and I avert my gaze to Bella. She's staring at me, but when I catch her, she turns red and looks at her joke of a date. It's apparent she said something to him, but he boisterously downed his drink and guffawed. She has a puzzled expression on her face and moves her chair away from him. Fleetingly content I caught Bella staring at me; I am lifted into higher spirits.

"Edward, what's your job?" Lauren distracts me. She's looking at me with her fork lazily perched in her hand.

"I'm a lawyer." I sip my wine.

"That's like, so hot. My parents wanted me to go to law school." I almost spit out my drink because of the laugh that nearly escapes my throat. Unbelievable.

"I see," Trying to stay polite. "So when did you become a model?"

"After high school. I mean, I wasn't that smart –" _That's apparent._ "And I kind of got my way with my looks so like, I guess I made a profession out of it." I don't even bother to ask which college she attended. Just then, I got a text message from Alice.

'_Bella hates her date, it's working. She's upset you're here but she keeps staring at you every second. I'll dig up more dirt later. xA'_ I snap my phone and look back up at Lauren. She's obviously peeved but I remedy this with a flash of my smile.

…………

As the dinner date is winding down, I pay the check and poor Lauren Mallory is melted clay in my hands. I need to get away from her – for the sake of my intellect. I already feel potentially less intelligent. I open the passenger door of my Volvo for Lauren to slide in. Sam hops in the backseat and I close both doors for them. Before I can walk around to the driver's side, Bella Swan storms up to me from out of the darkness.

"I didn't know you dated _those_ kinds of girls, Edward." She seethes.

"Why do you care?" I asked evenly. She crosses her arms and looks away. "Did you have a nice date?" I ask, my voice dripping with venom.

"No." She mutters.

"And why is that?" I pursue.

"Because you were there to ruin it." She narrows her eyes. Lauren is staring at our silent conversation from the car window. I raise my eyebrows in innocence.

"Bella, I was on a date. How does that ruin your night?" She stumbles with her words, and rather than actually choosing a sentence she just huffs in stubbornness. We stand there staring at each other, and I remember how soft her lips were. Just one month ago her currently pouted mouth was on mine and my bones ached to have that happen again.

"Don't you want to go home with frat-boy?" I provoke in an amused tone. She glares at me.

"Oh, right. Why don't you go charm Ms. Hooker over there into bed?" I hold back a smile, amused.

"You know, I really do love when you're angry. It's like watching a kitten trying to be a tiger." She opens her mouth then glares at me again. I pretend to mouth a silent 'rawr' at her. This sets her off even more and she hits me in the chest with her purse.

"Why are you so angry, Bella? You made it apparent a month ago that we shouldn't pick up where we left off." I say coldly. She bites her lip and then stares at a car.

"I don't have a ride home," She finally says. "I told Mike I didn't want to go home with him." My heart beats a little faster. I cross my arms.

"I can give you one," I say evenly, trying to keep up with my façade. I open the door for her and she scoots in and takes a seat next to Sam. "Lauren, this is my colleague, Bella Swan. We're currently working on a trial together," I gesture to Bella in the backseat. "Bella, this is Lauren Mallory." I gesture to Lauren next to me. Both girls give one curt nod to the other and then look out the window. The car ride passes in awkward silence, and finally, we reach Lauren's apartment. I leave Bella in the car, and then walk Lauren to her door.

"Thanks for the date, it was so nice." She smiles. I smile in return.

"My pleasure." Then, she leans in to kiss me and I turn my head quickly so she nails my cheek. She pulls back, her eyes wide with surprise – obviously not used to rejection.

"I don't kiss on the first date." I shrug, pretending to be sheepish.

"Oh, okay," She composes herself. "Call me?"

"Sure." _Not._ I smile at her again and then walk back to my Volvo. When I get into the car, Bella is glaring at me.

"So, what'd you eat for dinner?" I ask nonchalantly, looking at her through the mirror while driving.

"The soup du jour. You?" She responds curtly.

"Steak. It was exquisite," She smiles slightly at this and then leans back into the cushion of the backseat. When we reach her apartment, I open her door for her. "Goodnight, Bella."

"Walk me?" This catches me by surprise and I'm staring at her.

"Okay." I hesitate. Her booties are clacking against the pavement and when we exit the elevator onto her floor, the air is still silent. We both stop outside of her door and she rummages through her purse for her door key. She extracts it and slings her purse onto her shoulder again. She puts the key in the lock, but before she turns the knob she looks at me dead in the eye.

"See you, Edward."

"Goodnight, Bella." And then she kisses me but pulls away and runs inside before I can react.

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Again, thank you for the support guys it keeps me writing**

**Please review, it makes me happy and Edward will give you even more hugs!**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	8. Uncle Edward

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

"Let's make cupcakes." Rose declares to Emmett and I. It's nine in the morning, all of us still in our pajamas, and Rose suggests we make baked goods. Ridiculous.

"Hell yeah, babe!" Emmett roars from beside me. He pumps his fist in the air and Rose rolls her eyes, her hands on her hips.

"Be quiet, Em." I hit him lightly with a pillow and lean back groggily into the sofa. I nestle myself into a comfortable position, prop my legs up onto the coffee table and droop my lids shut.

"Is Bella tired?" He teases me, snapping his fingers an inch away from my face. I hit him with the pillow again, my eyes still closed. Just then, someone jumps on me. My eyes fly open and Rose is staring me in the face, her outstretched arms pinning my own against the sofa. She's kneeling on my lap, her gaunt kneecaps digging into my thighs. My legs are splayed out and I stubbornly sink deeper into the couch.

"Get up woman, I just bought new cake mix. This cannot wait."

"I thought models didn't eat." I mumble, re-closing my eyes.

"This one does, sleepyhead." She begins to ruffle my hair at high speed and Emmett joins the bandwagon by tickling my ribs. I convulse in painful laughter and gasp for much needed air.

I attempt to hold my hand up in defeat, a white flag. But then Emmett unnecessarily lifts me up by the waist and slings me over his shoulder as easily as a rag doll. My hair is hanging vertical, compliments of gravity, and blood rushes to my head. What a lovely way to awaken. I attempt to pound his back with my fists, my tenacity putting many to shame.

"Ouch," I grumble. I hold my left hand up to my face; I can distinguish a small, purple bruise forming on my pale skin. Emmett guffaws in laughter and proceeds with his kidnapping. When we're in the kitchen, he sets me down on a chair. I go from dazed and groggy to irritable in a flash of a second. "Why don't we eat cereal like normal people?" I angrily mutter.

"Because," Rose is rummaging around in the cupboards, "_We_ are spontaneous, fabulous people." She brandishes a box of vanilla cake mix. Emmett saunters toward her vicinity and lovingly wraps his arms around her. He gently kisses her head.

"You are a fantastic woman." He grins. She rolls her eyes then smiles.

"You only say this because food is involved." He nods vigorously and she punches him in the arm. I laugh at this.

"Kidding, Rosie." He leans down to kiss her neck and I avert my gaze to the fridge. Watching Rose and Emmett as a couple is no doubt humorous and entertaining – they are the most dysfunctional pair ever - but when it gets sappy I have to turn away.

While the cupcakes are in the oven, Rose is sitting on Emmett's lap across from me. She's licking the excess batter from a spoon.

"So, Bella," She nibbles at some batter, "Is Edward your friends with benefits? Half-boyfriend? One-fourth of a boyfriend? Oh wait, no – an eighth of a boyfriend?" There's amusement in her eyes, for she knows Emmett is the only thing keeping her alive right now. On cue, he wraps his arms tighter around her thin waist. I flip her the finger, causing her to snicker and Emmett to hoot in laughter.

"Bell is feeling sassy this morning." He teases.

"Want one too? I have two hands." I jokingly raise my eyebrows at him, inviting him to challenge me. This results in his boisterous laughter again.

"Well, anyway, I saw you kiss him you naughty girl." Rose nonchalantly says, nibbling at her spoon again. I turn a shade of crimson.

"What! You spied? _Rose_." I fume. I cross my arms and huff, giving her a glare.

"You were right outside the eyehole. I heard muffled conversation on the other side of the door so I got curious." She grins at me and I turn red again. I throw an orange Post-It notepad from the counter at her and she dodges in a lithe manner, followed by giggles.

"You're unbelievable." I grumble.

"I take it your original date didn't go well if a different guy brought you home." She muses, her eyes glinting with mischief. Emmett chuckles.

"Bell, you p-p-playa." He roars. My eyes widen and I immediately get defensive.

"It's not like that… It was spontaneous and in the moment – like you said Rose, 'we're spontaneous people.'" I mutter and cross my arms again.

"Maybe you should just go for Edward," She points her spoon toward me, "Just let the cards fall and stop fighting it." I pretend to look stunned.

"Rosalie Hale, giving up on your adamant hatred toward the man? This isn't like you." She scoffs.

"I don't hate the man, he just ruined your life for eight years. After some careful observation, though, he does bring you happiness." She twists a lock of her platinum hair.

"What on earth are you talking about?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Oh, don't deny it. You're in love with him. You two may be a complicated mess at the moment, but he's your obsession. He's your life and you won't listen to me when I say he's no good – so I'm letting you live your life." She clenches the clean spoon between her perfect, straight teeth to pull her blonde locks into a high ponytail. I stare at her incredulously; if anyone were almost as stubborn as me, it'd be Rose. The fact she's given up on trying to keep me miles away from Edward Cullen indicates there's something else going on.

"What's going on here, Rose?" I narrow my eyes at her. She aims for the sink and tosses her spoon into it.

"Nothing," She shrugs casually. "It's just…" She pauses, then gets up and walks slowly over to me. Her paces are far too short and slow and I'm growing uncomfortable with anticipation. I fidget in my chair and look at her expectantly. Finally, she reaches me and delicately lifts my hand into both of hers. Rose looks at me, her blue eyes clouded over with a nameless expression. "Alice called me while you were asleep this morning," She shifts her weight. I continue to stare at her in anticipation. She pauses for a second longer and then sighs. "And she's pregnant," Rose squeezes my hand lightly and my jaw drops to the floor. Alice _pregnant_? As in having a child? Becoming a mother? "She wants you and Edward to get back together…" I snap out of my reaction and shake my head.

"What does this have to do with Alice being _pregnant_?" I knit my eyebrows together and my brain reels.

"I was shocked too…" She trails off.

"Rose, answer the question." I demand. She hesitates briefly.

"She wants you to be the aunt." I raise my eyebrow so high it hits the roof.

"That is such an Alice thing." I retort. Rose shrugs.

"She sees her brother, single and unhappy. He's devoid of anything worthy in his life – other than his bank account. Edward is twenty-six and in the past eight years, Alice has rarely accounted of any serious relationship he's ever possessed with a girl since you. She sees herself, engaged and in love, hell, _pregnant_ now, and she doesn't want her brother to be a single, miserable uncle. You two were made for each other, Bella. Just think about it." I shake my head furiously.

"No, we weren't." She sighs.

"What was that kiss about?" I look away; I don't have an answer for her. "You're lying to yourself." Rose drops my hand. It's silent for a few minutes too long before I sigh and close my eyes. I re-open them after a moment and find she's relocated back to Emmett.

"How far along is she?" I rub my temples.

"Four months." Rose is staring straight ahead, subconsciously combing her fingers through Emmett's hair. He's silent and staring hard at the countertop.

"_What?_ She's not even showing." I point out, puzzled. Rose shrugs.

"Some women barely show at four months. For some, it's not even obvious until the sixth month. Plus, you have to give Alice some credit; She's a fashion designer – she's not going to be wearing tight frocks all day. Noticed that flowing-dress fad she's been sporting lately?" Rose looks directly at me. I sigh in acceptance. This is true – although I barely know anything about the fashion world, I had noticed Alice resorted to wearing dresses and other similar attire the past month.

"Does Edward know?" I ask evenly. Rose shakes her head.

"She doesn't know how to tell him. He'll either murder Jasper or feel insecure that he hasn't managed to accomplish anything familial in life yet. That's because you," She looks pointedly at me, "are preventing that." I lower my head into my hands. Then, I raise my head again and look from Emmett to Rose.

"How long did you talk to her for?" I narrow my eyes at her.

"Awhile." She admits. We both know I realize Alice asked Rose to tell me these things. It's silent again as my mind is attempting to process the abundance of information.

"She must have taken a long time to convince _you_ about talking to me." I mutter. She shrugs without looking at me. Another moment of silence and then after a final sigh I break the tension.

"She won't get married in what she calls a 'fat suit'." I hold back a smile. Rose giggles.

"I know. I'm assuming they'll push the wedding date sooner, just to keep the hoards and masses content." I smile slightly at this. Silly Alice, always getting herself into a plethora of trouble. Rose gets up and places her hand in Emmett's. He smiles apologetically at me, this is the quietest I've ever seen him. He stands up as well and they turn around. The couple is almost out the kitchen door when Rose looks over her shoulder at me.

"He's trying Bella. It's amazing how much he's changed in a few months, give him credit; think about it and stop being so stubborn. You _are_ his life."

My thoughts are clouded over but suddenly they part, an endless abundance of sunshine waiting on the other side. An epiphany if you will. He's my life too.

**EPOV**

Jacob Black's hearing is today, the one regarding his ridiculous grand theft auto predicament a few months back. As I put on my black suit, I sigh to myself. This should take no time at all, I know the prosecutor, Eric Yorkie – he's a decent man, and he just got slapped with a double homicide case. Yorkie has no time for petty borderline-juvenile prosecutions. By the time I reach the courthouse, everyone else is seated. There are no witnesses, only Jacob, the prosecutor, and the judge. Judge Weber refused to testify – he had better things to do as well. I breeze through the doors, Sam following, and Jacob is waiting for me. I take a good look at the tall teenager. He stands taller than me, around six foot four, and has a dark-brown, shaggy hair complete with a tan complexion. He didn't bother to change out of his crude, band t-shirt and filthy jeans. They're cuffed at the bottom, his large feet sporting black sandals. I breeze up beside him and drop my briefcase and manila folder onto the table.

"Nice courtroom attire." I dryly comment. He grins at me and sits.

"Let's get this party started."

The judge pounds his gavel against the sound block, the noise ringing throughout the room for only five pairs of ears to hear.

"Counselor, state your name." He turns to me, his eyes glazed over and apathetic. I stand up and straighten out my jacket.

"Edward Anthony Cullen, Your Honor." He brings his chin down a fraction of an inch. And then the trial commences.

Forty minutes later, I'm standing outside the courthouse with Jacob and Sam. It took barely any convincing before the judge and prosecutor decided to let Jacob go on PR bail – just like I'd promised him two months ago. It took ten minutes of convincing, twenty minutes to sign countless forms, and another ten for him to be on official probation. His license got revoked, but as long as the kid had a car this wouldn't stop him whatsoever. We're on the curb, his attire drastically clashing with mine – publicly painting us as externally contradictory.

"Thanks, man," He nods at me and proceeds to rummage around in his jeans pocket. I nod once in reply and have no idea why I'm not in my Volvo yet. What compelled me to stand next to this juvenile? Jacob pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, flips the top open and holds it out to me. "Want one?" I put both my hands in my pockets and rock on the heels of my feet.

"I don't smoke." I nonchalantly say.

"Want one anyway?" He momentarily pulls his hand back to draw himself a stick. He pops it in his mouth and it's hanging out the side like some soapy flapper-era gangster. I shrug.

"My father's a doctor."

"And my father's a firefighter." I raise the corners of my mouth a centimeter at this. I shake my head in rejection.

"Who pissed in your coffee?" He eyes me. After a moment, I pull my right hand out of my pocket to retrieve a cigarette. It's been ages since I last had one; possibly since law school. He lights it for me and I stick it between my lips.

"Everyone pisses in my coffee." I mutter, taking a moment to exhale smoke. He laughs briefly and then stops.

"Thanks for doing this." He stretches lazily and sucks on his cigarette.

"What?" I ask as Sam sits down on the pavement.

"For Elizabeth." He blows out a ring of smoke, a blue tint to it, and I wonder if he has a happy memory he holds on to; maybe holding sparklers on a dew-drenched lawn on the Fourth of July, or riding in a fire truck with his father. Maybe he used to sail, or even skateboard. My mind reels of what once potentially used to make Jacob Black content in life. I try to imagine what his genuine smile looks like, not the sardonic satirist grins he displays. I think of Bella, her pearly smile and pink cheeks. The way her soft lips feel on mine, the way her hand fits perfectly in my own.

We smoke together in comfortable silence; nothing needs to be said. Just then, a car whizzes by and splashes muddy water onto my new, several-hundred dollar loafers. I can no longer see my reflection in them, and normally the predicament of getting my expensive attire ruined angers me - but not today.

"Dude," Jacob points to my loafers with his cigarette, "That sucks." I look down at them and can see the particles of mud swirling around in the water. It begins to seep in, sponging through my socks and trickling between my toes. I'd have to throw them anyway when I got home. I take a long drag from my puffer and shrug.

"I didn't like them anyway."

_Fifteen days after graduation, I found a small note tucked into the windshield wiper of my silver Volvo. I read it and had no idea how Bella knew I was in Seattle – a few days after graduation I took off from our home in Forks. My parents were upset I decided to flee for the summer, and Alice was apathetic after our fall-out. _

_I drove back to Forks and found her at the edge of the woods – the spot where I first approached her; the spot where she first took off her blazer and kicked off her flats, her carefree spirit once doing as it pleased. I weighed her down, I took from Bella what made her Bella: her independence. But now, she's not wearing a blazer and flats, but a white summer dress that breaks my heart. The hem flutters slightly in the breeze and so does her mahogany hair. Bella doesn't step forward when she sees me, she stays locked in place._

"_You don't want me?" She quietly asks._

"_No." I stare at her. She looks away from me and sits against the trunk of the tree we once did English homework on. _

"_Sorry I wasn't your trophy wife." She mutters, her voice cracking._

"_It's not like that, Bella." She snaps her head toward me and her gaze is soaked in tears and fury._

"_I wanted you to be different. But you stepped on me and scraped me from the bottom of your pretty little penny loafers; I was that accidental piece of scum you mistakenly sank in. I never needed you, Edward." She's crying now and we both know she's lying. She gets up to leave, but before she can walk past me, I grab her shoulders._

"_Well I goddamn needed you!" I half-yell at her. I pour what I couldn't say into a kiss and then pull myself away from her. "Goodbye, Bella." I turn my back to her and glide away without looking back. Half of me wanted to turn around, get on one knee, and ask her to be my bride; that we could elope that night. She would be mine and I would be hers. But there are some things people do because they think it's right – even when they know its wrong. It's easier than telling yourself the truth. _

**APOV**

"Alice, love, you need to wake up." Jasper's honey voice drips softly into my ear and he gently runs his fingers through my short hair. I groan and bury my face into the pillow.

"What time is it?" I sigh, rolling onto my back and opening my eyes to find my blonde-haired angel gazing down on me. He smiles warmly and my heart melts.

"Eleven-thirty." He smoothes my cheek.

"What! But I'm still so exhausted." I groan, throwing the blanket over my face. Jasper chuckles gently and peels it away.

"Maybe it's because…" He trails off purposefully and his eyes sparkle. I begin to giggle and sit up to kiss him lovingly. He smiles widely and then gently picks me up, light as a feather. Jasper carries me to our kitchen and asks me what I'd like to eat; I demand for a stack of pancakes and four eggs. He looks at me surprised but then starts to laugh heartily.

"It's for our little buddy here." I shrug then pat my belly. I'm barely showing, you can only see the bump if you look very closely – but it looks more like I ate too many brownies than if I'm carrying a child.

"So," He cracks an egg into the pan. "I really think we should tell your brother." I casually grunt; I'm too preoccupied flipping my way through a copy of _Vogue_.

"Alice." He gives me a look and I wave him off. Changing the subject, I push the magazine toward him.

"Should I use that color blue in my Spring line?" I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them.

"_Alice_." He warns. I sigh in defeat and snatch the magazine back up.

"Can I at least have Bella here when we do?" I bargain. Jasper gives me a puzzled look.

"What will that do? I thought Rose already told her as well." He plops the first egg onto a plate and proceeds with cracking egg number two.

"Because she has no problem slapping him in case he gets too overprotective," He chuckles at this. "And Bella knows, she just could barricade me from Edward's wrath."

"I see your point," The smell in the air makes my mouth water, although I usually hate fried food. "Invite them both over now, darling."

"How about after I eat." His melodic laughter oozes into the air for a good minute.

…………

I managed to style my hair in an acceptable fashion while swiping on a layer of natural makeup. To hide my growing bump, I threw on a flowing, light green dress – it was a legitimate alibi deeming it's the middle of June. When there's a knock at the door, Jasper breezes over to open it.

"Bella," He greets warmly. "Do come in." She pecks him on the cheek and peeks her head around to glance at me. I wave at her and she runs over, tripping in the process.

"Ooof." She mutters, holding her arms out to break her fall against the coffee table. I giggle in amusement and after she composes herself, takes a seat next to me on the black sofa.

"Hi Bell." I chirp. She's still wide-eyed from her spill and then she breaks into a smile.

"Pregnant?" She giggles and pokes my belly. I pretend to smack her hand away just as Jasper takes a seat on my other side. He slings his arm around my shoulders and I absentmindedly fidget with my ring.

"Do your parents know?" Bella asks.

"Not yet, but I can't imagine why they would be bothered by it. As long as the baby and I are healthy, Carlisle will be content, and Esme will be ecstatic overall." I shrug and Jasper squeezes my shoulder in encouragement.

"That's great," Bella smiles. "But what about –" She's interrupted by a rap at the door.

"Speak of the devil." I say under my breath. I watch as my fiancé greets my brother with a handshake and a smile. Edward glides over to us, but stops dead in his tracks when he sees Bella sitting next to me. Trying hard to look at her, he walks over to me and gives me a swift kiss on the forehead. Bella crosses her arms and looks up at the ceiling while Jasper and I observe Edward nestling himself into the loveseat. It's silent for a moment before my brother rolls the sleeves of his button-up to his elbows and crosses his legs.

"So," He begins, doing everything in his power to stay casual. "You called?" Edward initiates his lifelong nervous habit of running his fingers through his mess of hair.

"Do you just want me to tell him so you don't feel the flames?" Bella whispers quietly into my ear – too quiet for the men to hear. I shake my head; I wouldn't hide from my brother.

"Edward, dear." I coo.

"Alice, dear." He mocks.

"Guess why I called you." I tease with a smile. He uncrosses his legs and pretends to scratch his chin.

"You committed an atrocious homicide and you want me to represent you? Is your rival's body in the basement? No wait, you want me to pick out the proper shade of pink for a skirt?" He displays a close-lipped smile. I throw a pillow at him and he laughs while dodging it. I can see Bella smiling discreetly from the corner of my eye.

"Guess again, prick." I giggle.

"I don't know," He sighs. "You want me to model your wedding dress for you?" Bella erupts in laughter beside me but then she clamps her hand over her mouth. I expect Edward to throw on his icicle façade, except he's smiling at her. My twin senses are telling me he's pleased that he made Bella laugh.

I decide I'm done playing games, so I slowly stand up, Jasper keeping my hand clasped in his. I gently shake it off, lean back on my heels, stick my belly out in an over-exaggerated fashion and place one hand on the top of my tiny belly, the other hand cradling the bottom. The bump is barely visible, but the bunching of my cloth dress emphasizes the point. Edward's eyes widen to the point where I'm concerned they could potentially implode. He grips the arms of the loveseat, his knuckles going white. I flash my eyes to Jasper's, giving him a look that says 'do something'.

"Edward, be calm. Just think tranquility. You just need to breathe." Jasper attempts to soothe my brother, a useful and fantastic skill he possesses. After a moment, he releases his vice grip from the chair's arms.

"I'm going to be an uncle?" I'm almost certain Edward's eye twitched. It's a rhetorical question. He lowers his head and rubs his temples. Finally, after an abundance of atmospheric tension and animosity, Bella abruptly stands up.

"Edward, come with me." She demands. He snaps his head toward her. After hesitantly eyeing her, he slowly stands up and follows her outside into the apartment's third floor hallway.

**BPOV**

I silently close the door to Alice and Jasper's apartment and turn to Edward. I cross my arms and begin.

"You need to support them." I say evenly.

"I know _that_," He crosses his arms as well and leans against the wall.

"Then react cordially, Edward." I sigh.

"It's just… a lot to take in," He says carefully. He lowers his gaze and sighs deeply. "I've only lived two minutes in this world without Alice; it's hard to see her like this. My sister, my _twin_, is going to be a mother. I'm… going to be… an uncle," He sighs again, but then lifts his head to look me in the eyes. The pools of green sear deep into my core, and for the first time in awhile they hold some life to them. "I'm going to be an _uncle_." He repeats, but this time, it sounds more like an epiphany.

"Yes," I say softly. "You are." And then, all the feelings of hostility and resentment toward one another over the past eight years suddenly vanish. It's as if a veil of darkness has been lifted, and now we are at peace with one another. Forgiven, but not forgotten.

"I can't even process this." He slumps to the floor, his green eyes wide and bewildered. All his ice and professionalism is gone, he splays his legs out and his striped button-up looks more like a façade than his established way of life. Edward lifts his head up to look at me - he looks like a frightened child. I take a few steps toward him, and join him on the hallway floor. I splay my legs out as well, mimicking him, and trace circles into the carpeting with my forefinger.

"Does Uncle Edward sound ridiculous to you? Uncle Eddie?" He turns his head toward me and his normally hard demeanor is now softened. "I think it sounds perfect." I shrug. After another moment of staring into his gorgeous eyes, he lowers his head and rests it in the crook of my collarbone. Out of instinct and memory, I soothingly run my fingers through his glorious, bronze tresses. This causes him to close his eyes and sigh softly. I don't have a lullaby to sing, but this time, I'm the one saving him.

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**Hi guys! Thank you again for reading, it means so much to me.**

**I really love your feedback and if you review Edward will hang out with you for a day!**

**PS: I'm not sure if I should continue with the story, should I?**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	9. Memories

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

Edward Cullen and I are sitting in my apartment eating Chinese food together. We are no longer hostile toward one another - rather, we've come to a silent peace. We are not together but we've established a steadfast cordial acquaintance - or a slight friendship if you don't want to be cynical. After the long day of epiphanies at Alice and Jasper's apartment, Edward had asked if I wanted to get something to eat. Apparently our idea of fine dining was grabbing a few cartons of Chinese and heading toward the den of my apartment.

His jacket is slung neatly over the back of the sofa while my purse is placed sloppily onto the edge of the coffee table. The multiple white cartons are splayed out in front of us and the Adonis sitting next to me has his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he's skillfully retrieving his food with chopsticks. I, on the other hand, opted to consume with a fork purely out of fear of embarrassing myself by clumsily spilling noodles onto my lap. I'm sitting cross-legged on the sofa, my hair pinned up lazily and my feet are bare. Two feet away from me is Edward with his glorious mess of bronze hair, him leaning forward – his elbows propped up on his thighs, and his feet only sport socks. His loafers are kicked into the corner. Sam is curled up, tight as a cinnamon bun, on the floor. We're eating in comfortable silence, watching the Channel 6 News. Edward swallows a mouthful of noodles and wipes his mouth neatly with a napkin.

"Where's Rose?" He turns his head toward me. I had completely forgotten about my roommate, I have no idea where she is.

"I have no idea." I bite my lip. He chuckles lightly.

"Call her if you're concerned."

"I'll call her later. She's probably with Emmett." I lean back into the sofa. Edward smiles slightly and points to the television with one chopstick.

"Emmett is at work." On cue, the two main anchors wrap up their story.

_And now, Emmett McCarthy with the sports scores. Go Mariners!_ The male anchor chuckles slightly while the female anchor smiles robotically. The camera cuts to my roommate's boyfriend. He's wearing a blue button-up and red tie. Emmett smiles at the camera, which deepens his dimples as he commences. _Good evening, folks. I'm Emmett McCarthy, here with the sports reports. But before I begin, I have something I'd like to ask someone._ His grin is blinding, and he beckons for someone to go on set. The hushed whispers of the cameramen display their obvious confusion while Edward and I turn to each other in our own. He raises an eyebrow at me and I blush at his gorgeous face, but then shrug in an over exaggerated manner.

Just then, my roommate, Rosalie Hale, walks onto the set. I nearly choke on my food, sending myself into a reeling coughing fit and Edward has to rub soothing circles on my back. Normally, this would cause me to either faint or turn cherry red, but at this moment, all I can wonder is why Rose is on the news. And then it hit me. From time to time, she visits Emmett on set, but this doesn't explain why she's on _camera_. But then it dawns on me. On my television, Emmett gently grabs his confused girlfriend's hand. _Rosalie Lillian Hale_, he begins. _You are the most beautiful and wonderful woman I've ever met. Your beauty, intelligence, wit and humor are all I need to make me want to spend the rest of my life as yours, and only yours. You are the love of my life, my best friend and my Rosie. This is why,_ he gets down on one knee. _I'm asking you to marry me. Will you, Rosie? Will you marry me?_ And then he pulls out a small box and pops it open to reveal a pink diamond engagement ring.

I nearly faint for two reasons: the regionally public engagement and the size of the ring. _Yes!_ Rose squeals and jumps into the arms of her now-fiancé. There is a chorus of 'awws' and noises of approval from the cameramen, anchors and Channel 6 News staff. My jaw is on the floor when I notice Edward had crept his hands from my back to my shoulders. He slowly pulls me back so I'm sunken deeply into the sofa – my eyes don't leave the screen. I've snapped out of my trance when I realize Edward's face is a few inches from mine.

"Bella," He probes my face and his icy cool breath washes over me. "Are you alright?" I blush a deep shade of red and nod meekly. "Then say something." He chuckles lightly.

"I can't when you're always trying to dazzle me." I mutter. He raises his eyebrows and then knits them in confusion.

"I was assuming you were stunned from the revelation of Alice's pregnancy and Rose's engagement all in the same day." He half-smiles.

"Well, that too." I say in a small, scoffing voice. He laughs and then pulls his head back, to my simultaneous relief and disappointment.

"Come here." He holds his arms out, inviting me for an embrace.

"No." I cross my arms stubbornly and make a face at him.

"Come here." He repeats laughing. I finally succumb at his melodic laughter and slink my way into his strong, chiseled arms. I sniff his chest.

"You smell like Adonis would," I take another whiff. "And Sam." He roars in laughter and tightens his hold on me.

**Rebecca POV – 2 Years Ago**

Leah wakes up screaming at three-thirty in the morning. Billy and I run to her shared room to find Elizabeth cowering in the corner and Leah on her bed. I have never seen so much blood in my life. It is streaming down her nose, her eye sockets, and she is gurgling from the sound of the red liquid caught in her throat. Her blue eyes are masked in red as she frantically looks at us; Her screams cause blood to exit her mouth and dribble down her neck, staining the white t-shirt I recently bought for her. A combination of tears and blood streak her face. Billy picks her up and we don't bother to get Jacob or Elizabeth; they are old enough to stay home now. As we are speeding in the car to the emergency room, the streets eerily silent and barren, Leah is agitated and disorientated. Five minutes into the ride, she loses consciousness.

The ER staff pump her full of platelets, plasma and blood – attempting everything they can to replace the amount she is leaking out. I stand in horror as the angels in masks try to save my baby from the embrace of death. They stick my daughter in multiple IV fluids, this is to prevent hypovolemic shock, and then they wheel her out, covered in blood, to radiology so they can take CT scans of her brain and lungs. Billy and I know it had never been this bad, despite all our early-morning emergency room visits. This wasn't relapse - this was system failure. Dr. Cullen brings us to a little lounge on the pediatric ICU floor. All three of us take seats, all three of us rigid, and two of us anticipating.

"Arsenic," He repeats. "That's all we can do right now." The doctor looks heartbreakingly from Billy to me.

"Arsenic?" Billy mirrors the repetition. "Poison?" He looks incredulously at me then back to Dr. Cullen.

"It's a new therapy," Carlisle explains. "It's received intravenously from twenty-six to sixty days. The drug is so new that it barely has a five-year survival rate. Now, that's not to say it won't be effective in the future, but for now there isn't an effected cure for it," He pauses to straighten his signature red tie out. "Mr. and Mrs. Black…Leah has exhausted all cord blood, allogeneic transplant, radiation, chemo and ATRA. She's lived ten years longer than what any of us expected her to." He looks at us with sympathy in his eyes and I turn to Billy, searching for something to rebuke him with. Dr. Cullen is discreetly telling us that it will do nothing for her – that it's time to let go.

"Do it," I blurt out. "Please, just do it. Just try." I beg and the doctor furrows his brow.

"We can try it," He says softly. "But chances are, the hemorrhaging she's developed will still beat out the arsenic." In other words, she's going to die either way. The blood in my veins runs cold as I realize that I'm potentially going to lose the last fourteen years of my life.

At four in the morning, Leah has already been given two blood transfusions – to make up for the blood she's lost– and the first induction of arsenic. I fall asleep besides Leah's bed for a few minutes; she'd been suffering a shallow sleep. Then, I get up, realizing my husband has been gone for an hour, and set out to find him. I find him in a small atrium, his brow furrowed as he's scribbling something onto a piece of paper. There are crayons splayed out at the base of his feet; their vibrant colors cheer up the melancholy niche.

"Hey." I say. Billy stops writing and looks up at me.

"Becca, I…" He knits his eyebrows together. "I think we should take Leah home."

"Well of course, we –" But he cuts me off.

"I think we should take her home now," He stares at me, and I realize that whenever we lose Leah, just looking into the eyes of my husband would haunt me. I see her face in his, her eyes. "I think she would want to die in her own bed." He says quietly.

The word explodes between us, setting the building, us and our world on fire. "She's not going - " But he cuts me off a second time.

"Yes, she is," He says evenly. "Becca, she is _dying_. We'll either lose her today, tomorrow or in a year if we're lucky. You heard Dr. Cullen. The arsenic doesn't cure her, it just postpones what is coming." His facial composure breaks down and he hunches his shoulders. It's quiet for too long.

"But… I love her." My eyes well up, and I say this like it will help make a difference.

"So do I," He whispers. "But too much to keep doing this. Love is not enough." And at the last words the paper falls out of his hands, floating like a soft sail and then landing on the hospital linoleum. Before I pick it up, I can see it is full of tearstains and cross-outs. It's scrawled in a dark blue crayon. _She loved the way it smelled in Summer_, I read. _She could beat anyone at gin rummy. She loved spooky Quileute stories and legends. She pretended she was a wolf until she was five. She could dance without any music. She loved the color purple. Favorite time of day: twilight. She was a gem._ As I continue reading my heart stops and all the hairs on my body raise.

"Is this… a _eulogy_?" I croak. By now, Billy is crying too.

"If I don't start one now, I won't be able to finish when it's time."

…………

Against all odds, Leah miraculously survives for ten days on intense transfusions and arsenic therapy. On day eleven, she slips into a coma. Billy is home with Elizabeth, and I sit loyally and vigilantly next to Leah's bedside. That is, until I receive a phone call from the principal of Jacob's school an hour later.

Apparently, metal sodium is stored in the high school chemistry laboratory. Apparently, it is water-reactive, creating hydrogen and intense heat. Apparently, my brilliant sophomore realizes this, thus reasoning why he stole a sample, flushed it down the boys' bathroom toilet, and exploded the school's septic tank.

"You're grounded." I say to him in the passenger seat as we're driving toward the hospital.

"Whatever." He mutters.

"Until you're fifty-five." He's been expelled for three weeks by the principal, and it is then I wonder when I gave up on him. He slouches in his seat and crosses his arms.

"That principal's an ass." He mutters under his breath and uncrosses his arms.

"You know what, Jake? The world is full of them. You will always be up against someone or some_thing_." At this he glares at me and scoots farther away from me.

"You can be talking about the Mariners and it will somehow turn the conversation over to Leah." He hisses. We're at the hospital and I pull into the parking lot.

"Would you like to tell me why you blew up the school's septic tank?"

"You don't know what it's like being the brother of the sister whose dying of cancer." He says in a low voice.

"Oh really? I think I have a decent idea deeming I'm the _mother_ of the girl who is dying of cancer," I shriek at him. He just narrows his eyes at me and I glance down to find a quarter-sized bruise in the crease of his elbow. He has a matching one on his other arm. "What the hell is that, Jacob?" I demand. He crosses his arms.

"Nothing."

"What is it, Jacob Embry Black?" I seethe. My assumption is heroin and not leukemia.

"It's none of your business." He spits back.

"It _is_ my business." I retort. Although I know it isn't. It's my fault I gave up on him. I yank his arm out to expose his bruise. He lifts his head and looks at me, his eyes searing.

"Yeah, Mom. I shoot up every other day. Except I'm not doing heroin, I'm getting blood drawn up on the third floor here," He stares at me and yanks his arm back. "Didn't you wonder who was keeping Leah's platelet supply up?" He opens the car door and slams it, walking away. I don't bother to stop him because I can't see anything anymore. My vision blurs and I sit at the wheel, crying for what seems like years.

…………

Seventeen days after Leah is admitted, she develops an infection. She is pancultured for every possible fluid in her body, and this is sent out to isolate the antagonistic organism. Leah is still comatose, but we all sit by her bedside praying for her to wake up. Rachel, our favorite nurse, stays late past her shift at night just to keep my spirit in check. She has sunny one-sided conversations with my unconscious daughter, she brings me coffee and she's always humming a cheerful tune. But sometimes, when she thinks I'm not looking, I can see her tear up when she sponge-bathes Leah or gives her a new IV.

One morning, I'm sitting in a small hospital lounge by myself. Dr. Carlisle Cullen walks in and takes a fluid seat across from me. He wraps his stethoscope around his neck and folds his hands onto the table between us.

"I wanted to be invited to her wedding." My daughter's doctor of twelve years quietly admits. He doesn't look at me.

"You will be," I insist but he absentmindedly shakes his head. I fight on. "You can bring a nice gift, bring your family. You can make a toast."

"Becca - " He brings his head up to look at me. I cut him off.

"Esme will love it." I know I'm pushing too hard.

"Becca," The look in his eyes completely breaks me. "It's time to say goodbye."

**One Year Ago**

Leah beat all odds. Twenty-five days after her admittance, fourteen days of being comatose, she woke up. She was dazed and disorientated, but the sight of her weak smile was that of a miracle. She was put into remission a week later, thus sealing her recovery as a miracle. However, she still received inductions of arsenic and continues to this day. The graft-versus-host disease, the medical complication she contracted, has left scars in her hands. Her immune cells target the recipient allogeneic transplant as 'foreign' and attacks them; her body is destroying itself. Although Leah's skin is paler than usual, it makes her look like a fair-skinned and haired goddess – the opposite of the rest of my children. Jacob and Elizabeth are both averagely tanned in complexion, while the middle child is now the outlier.

"Mom," She calls from her room. "Can you come up here?" Leah has been home a year, and for a year, we pretended like everything was okay. We pretended to be a normal family, albeit Jacob. I instinctively rush upstairs and bolt through the door.

"Yes, sweetie?" I stare at the fifteen-year old girl that is my daughter. Her pale blue eyes are vibrant against her colorless skin; her hair hangs down in the lightest shade of blonde – it grew back after the chemo. Her cheekbones are gaunt and the only color on her body - other than her beautiful eyes - are her lips. Her ruby lips are balanced on her sickly pale skin. She looks like a ghost.

"I don't feel good." She frowns slightly and I lightly take her hand. I can feel the deep scars that plague her palms.

"Do you want to go to the hospital? Just as a precaution?" I ask softly. She adamantly shakes her head in response.

…………

We end up in the hospital that evening, twilight. Dr. Cullen walks into the room, Leah is strangely sitting in the chair next to me and not lying in the bed.

"Hey, kiddo. How are you?" He smiles warmly at my daughter and unravels his stethoscope.

"I'm okay, Carlisle. I've been feeling a bit faint. Also, I've been terribly exhausted." My entire family is on a first-name basis with the doctor; he's done more than a few miracles for us. Not only that, but the hospital is our second home.

"She had a fever earlier." I interject.

"Hmm," He scratches his chin and reads her pulse calmly. "We could check you in overnight as a precaution, just to eliminate the mishap of another relapse. Those are generic and superficial symptoms, the first stages. In the morning we'll check your promyelocytes, but…" He scribbles something on his clipboard. "Since you had a fever, it'd be safer to have you here already." He suggests lightly and smiles. Leah shrugs; she's done this too many times to not be apathetic.

Thirty minutes later, she's in a bed in a shared room. She's been admitted to stay over night - her hematologist check-up will begin tomorrow morning. Because this isn't an emergency, she was given a room to share with another patient. I'm sitting in a chair, reading a magazine. Leah is flipping through the channels on the wall television and finally decides to land on an old TV movie. Just then, a hand clutches onto the curtain between the stranger and my daughter and pulls it back.

A boy with very short hair - just barely longer than a buzz cut - is grinning at Leah. His hair is light brown, and it's apparent it recently grew back from assumptive chemotherapy. He has large, tinkling hazel eyes and his white smile illuminates his pale skin. He has the hint of a faded golden-bridge, making it's way over his pointed nose. His jawbone is developing, sloping his face, making it nearly chiseled. My eyes go straight to his wrist, it's sporting a hospital admittance bracelet, but to my confusion, he's dressed in street attire and not a gown. The stranger's arms are crossed, his muscles defined and exposed. My assumption on his age is around seventeen, and he's wearing a faded t-shirt, beige khakis and scuffed penny loafers.

"Hey," He grins at my daughter. "What are you in for?" I can't help but stare at him, although my magazine is still in my hands.

"APL," She casually says. "You?" She flashes him a brilliant smile and my head reels.

"Ooh, a rarity," He tightens the fold on his arms, discreetly flexing his muscles. I duck my head to hide a smile. "I'm in for AML. Not as exciting." He teases. I immediately become jealous; his acute myeloid leukemia has a survival rate of forty-percent while Leah's rare case of acute promyelocytic leukemia only has a minimal survival rate of below twenty-percent with a failed ATRA treatment. This stranger has better chances of surviving than my daughter.

"So do you like to come here for the scenery?" Leah teases back, nodding at his attire. My mouth drops to the floor; who is this flirt that is my daughter? I've rarely accounted of her having patient interactions – she's either unconscious or too ill to have one.

He chuckles. "No, I got released just now. My mother is in the cafeteria - I'm just waiting for her to get me. I'd drive myself home if I only I remembered the keys to my invisible car." Leah tinkles in laughter. He smiles wide, obviously pleased with himself. I continue to stare at their interaction in disbelief.

"Well, I'm in here for the night." She dramatically sighs. He makes a pretend pout.

"I'm a free man," He grins. "But alas, I must depart." He throws his hands dramatically into the air and gives a playful sigh.

"I'm Leah Black." My daughter says to him, her eyes tinkling.

"Leah, a pleasure. Tyler Crowley," He gets up from the bed and shuffles to her bed, his penny loafers scuffling against the linoleum. "So, if I asked for your number would I get it or a slap in exchange?" His grins grows wider and Leah immediately snatches a piece of paper and pen from the side table. She tears off a strip, scribbles the number down and hands it to Tyler Crowley before flashing him a large smile.

"I like the heart," He laughs and his hazel eyes crinkle. Leah joins in laughter. "Well, bye." He winks at her, smiles at me, and scuffles out the door. I snap my head to her - my jaw is already on the floor.

"Oh my _God_," She throws her head back. "Mom, he's _gorgeous_." I smile and Rachel walks in.

"I agree," She has a fresh set of bed sheets. "If only I were twenty years younger." Rachel chuckles to herself. My daughter turns to me, her eyes shining.

"Mom, do you think he'll call?" I think of her father, who will immediately lock her away in solitary confinement. But as for myself, I'm singing on the inside – I never thought I'd see this day come. Another miracle.

"Maybe, sweetie."

…………

The next morning, Leah's white blood cell count was stable and she was discharged from the hospital to my immense relief. And he did call – every single night since that one.

As the arsenic wears Leah down at the end of the day, Tyler Crowley brings her back up. He is a drug in himself, a morphine which numbs everything else in life. Every night after dinner, the home phone rings and Leah sprints and snatches it before the second ring can commence. She escapes into the closet for an hour while Elizabeth is curious and Jacob is apathetic and distanced as always. When she emerges, she is flushed and giddy – her heart throbbing at the beat of a hummingbird's from the embrace of first love.

One night, I follow her into the bathroom after her routine dose of Tyler. She's standing in front of the mirror, although she only needs to stand in front of her father to do that. Her fair hair is shoulder-length, but it's choppy in awkward places – it never grew back in waves after her constant chemotherapy. Her body is rail-thin and her large, colorful eyes look disproportioned against her small and colorless body. She vapidly holds her hand out under her mane of hair, expecting it to shred. Yet it doesn't. The look on her face is hauntingly hollow as she stares at her ghost-like reflection.

"What do you think he sees in me?" She continues to stare at herself, her eyes vapid. I step into the bathroom with my arms crossed.

"I think he sees a beautiful girl who he can relate with." I lean against the doorframe.

"I looked up AML on the internet… He has a high cure rate." She says in a sad voice.

"Yes, but –" She cuts me off and turns to face me.

"When you care more if someone else lives than you do about yourself… Is that what love is?" My throat closes up and I decide to answer her honestly.

"Yes." She turns back around.

"Something bad is going to happen." She says softly.

"What are you talking about?" I walk up next to her and smooth her hair.

"That's just the way it works. When something good happens, it's followed by something bad. Good things never last and Tyler is the only good thing that's ever happened to me." She says sadly.

"That's absolutely ridiculous." I scoff.

Three days later, during a check-up, her hematologist accounts that her promyelocyte count has dropped – the first signs of clinical relapse.

…………

I never have the intention of eavesdropping, but when Leah comes home late from her first date with Tyler I hear her voice from the crack of her room. Leah and Elizabeth share a room, one of many things they've shared all their lives – including bone marrow and blood cells.

"You awake?" Leah whispers.

"I am now," Elizabeth mutters and I hear shuffling. "How was it?" My youngest is now twelve, old enough to be terribly curious about the world of dating.

"Amazing," Leah breathes. "I mean, wow."

"What do you mean wow?" Elizabeth demands.

"He's a really good kisser." Her sister sighs. There's more shuffling.

"No _way_," Elizabeth breathes. "What's he taste like?" I can hear Leah's giggling.

"Popcorn and sunshine."

"What does sunshine taste like?" Elizabeth inquires.

"You'll see one day," Leah blissfully sighs. There is a longer shuffling noise - my assumption is that she is changing into her pajamas. I can hear the sound of a pillow being punched and ruffling. "Elizabeth?" She whispers.

"Yeah?" Her sister whispers back.

"He has scars on his hands from graft-versus, too. I could feel them when we held hands." Leah murmurs.

"Was it gross?" Elizabeth questions.

"No. It was like we matched perfectly."

…………

A week later, her relapse is in full effect and Dr. Cullen urges for a peripheral blood stem cell transplant. However, Leah objects to this because she refuses to be put in solitary confinement for six weeks – six weeks without Tyler. Eventually, we all came to an agreement that she would have to wear a mask at home and in public, and she will have the freedom of undergoing outpatient chemotherapy appointments. While she undergoes these appointments, it is prepping Elizabeth for the transplant. At her first appointment, Tyler Crowley shows up. She's sitting in a lone chair, hooked up to the IV when he glides in and take a seat next to her.

"Hey Mrs. Black," He smiles at me and then turns to Leah. "How far into it are you?" He touches her arm lightly and I can see that his hair is visibly longer.

"Just started." She makes a face.

"I bet you can't make it until three o' clock without tossing your lunch." He teases. It is now two-fifty; he's challenging her for ten minutes.

"You're on," Her eyes light up. "What's the longest you've gone without throwing up?"

"Two days." He grins widely and absentmindedly traces circles into my daughter's arm.

"No _way_." Her eyes grow wide. Rachel, our favorite nurse, is sitting at a table nearby. She lifts her head.

"It's true," She verifies. "I saw it with my own eyes." Tyler grins at Leah and his smile is blinding.

"Told you, I've mastered the art."

"The art of retaining your vomit?" Leah scoffs. He laughs freely and glances at the clock: two fifty-eight. "Well –" But she doesn't finish, because she goes green. I rise from my seat, but Tyler reaches her first. He already had the basin propped up under her chin as she's involuntarily spewing from the chemotherapy. As she continues to retch, he rubs his hand in slow, soothing circles against her back.

"It's okay." He soothes, half-whispering near her ear. I can't help but stare in astonishment and Rachel looks at me.

"It looks like she's in good hands." Rachel says and gets up to walk out to attend to another patient. After Leah is done vomiting, she is bleary-eyed and she sniffles, trying to tidy up her runny-nose.

"Sorry." She sniffles again and looks at Tyler with her large, sad eyes.

"For what?" He scoffs and runs his hand up and down her back. "It could be me tomorrow." Leah wipes her irritated eyes with the back of her hand, but then Tyler takes it and starts to trace the scars in her palm with his forefinger. My daughter closes her eyes and sighs, obviously upset with herself for retching in front of her boyfriend. Tyler stops tracing her scars, and when he raises his hand slowly to rub her back, I can see his scars too. He places his arm around her shoulders and Leah nestles into the crook of his neck, both of them oblivious to my presence. Her left arm is propped up onto the armchair, hooked up to the IV while her right is gripped around his waist. Together, in unison, understanding one another, they wait for what will come next.

One month later, Tyler drives Leah home from a date. I understand I'm meant to give my daughter her own life, but essentially I am part of her life. As he walks her up to the front steps, I'm watching discreetly through the window. Her hair shredded from the chemotherapy, she's now sporting a head-scarf that hides her blonde bristles of hair. Her blue hygienic mask is placed over her mouth, covering the bottom half of her pale face. It has a smile drawn on it, something Tyler did. His hair is now about the length of a buzz cut – it grew back from two weeks ago. He holds her scarred hand, but before she goes inside, she looks at him expectantly with her large, haunting eyes. And then, he slowly lifts the corners of her mask, and I know I should stop him, but I need to give her this much. She may never get it again. He delicately removes her mask and kisses her lightly and sweetly. When they kiss, it is beautiful. It's a mirror image; her understanding him and he understands her.

Two days later, Leah is back in the hospital for her stem cell transplant. However, she is more emotionally than physically deteriorated because Tyler Crowley hasn't called in three days, nor has he returned her calls.

"Did you get in a fight?" I ask softly as she's hooked up to multiple IV lines in her hospital bed. "Maybe it was an emergency and has nothing to do with you at all." I attempt.

"Maybe it does have to do with me." She argues.

"Getting healthy enough to give him a piece of your mind sounds like a good plan, right?" I point out. "I'll be right back." I walk out of the room and seek out Rachel in the hallway.

"Hi," I start somewhat cheerily. "Tyler Crowley. Has he been in today?" She just blinks at me.

"You know, tall kid. Very sweet, dating my daughter." I roll my eyes and smile. Rachel touches my hand lightly.

"Oh, Becca," Her eyes glaze over. "I thought somebody told you already." She tilts her head slightly and looks at me in a heartbreaking way. "He died this morning."

I didn't tell Leah until one month later. She didn't talk to me for nine days, only acknowledging Elizabeth and Billy. For the next months and year, essentially, it was hard pushing her to find the will to live. She refused to fight, so we all had to do it for her. Everyone has his or her personal ghost, that one person you can't escape. Tyler Crowley is Leah's ghost.

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**READ: I know you guys might not like Rebecca too much but that was to show Leah's life in the whole picture**

**Sorry that took awhile to update! I was at a hockey tournament 4 hours away**

**We won though! Yay =] So press 1 if you hate ex-boyfriends who try to ruin your life**

**Thanks for reading! Reviews make me crank out chapters faster and they make my day**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	10. Damn You, Mr Vodka

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

"You cannot be serious," I breathe as I delicately hold Rose's left hand. "Look at that thing." I stare incredulously at the size of her new engagement ring. Of course, Emmett was intelligent enough to purchase her a pink diamond – her favorite color. One of his more intellectual moments. A large amount of his monthly salary went into this, I'm assuming. My guess is that the oval diamond is around two carats, encrusted in a sea of smaller, white diamonds.

Edward is perched awkwardly on our sofa, Emmett next to him, while Rose is gushing to me about her engagement in the kitchen. My first instinct is that the conversation between the two men is uncomfortable and relatively small, but to my amazement, they are laughing. Edward laughing; something that rarely occurred up until the past few weeks. Even during the first months he hardly cracked a smile.

"Well, you're going to be my maid of honor, of course." Rose babbles. Her hand is still in my own, her ring glinting in the kitchen lighting.

"Does this thing weigh your hand down? Or potentially the left side of your body?" I joke and she laughs.

"Should we have a winter wedding?" She asks but then makes a face. "Oh no, I'm not a winter person, am I?" She looks at me quizzically and I shrug in confusion. She scoffs and retrieves her hand. "Bella, you were never good at this. Here, I'm going to call Alice." I frown apologetically, but on the inside, I'm relieved. Discussing weddings and so forth are not my forte, and my head is going to explode any minute deeming I'm Alice's _and_ Rose's maid of honor. Then, I think of my pixie best friend, Alice. Her belly is still smaller than average, but there is no doubt that it's increasingly swelling as the days commence.

I amble over to the sofa, which holds both Emmett and Edward. Sam is on the floor, but when he sees me, gets up to nuzzle my knee. I scratch his ear and then take a seat in between the men.

"Hey, Bell. How was your day?" Emmett grins at me, his dimples deepen. I lean back into the sofa.

"Fine," I glance at Edward. "Edward and I went to Alice and Jasper's today." What an incredibly long day.

"Yes," Edward's fluid and musical voice confirms. "Alice revealed her pregnancy to me." He glances at me and for a moment I get lost in his emerald gems of eyes. They bore deep into my soul and I feel the seams of my life being ripped apart. All the walls I've built up to keep Edward Cullen out, those walls of eight years of healing have been demolished. I succumb to the slope of his right-angle jaw, his beautifully pale demeanor. The way his reddish-brown hair is untamed and screaming for me to run my fingers through the thick tresses. A lock of bronze hair is more out of place than the others and I unthinkingly brush it into place. We both stiffen as a repercussion and I snap my hand back, as if I'd been bitten. I immediately blush a shade of cherry and turn quickly to Emmett.

"How was your day, Em? Oh well… I mean it must have been good and… Yeah." I stumble across my words and Emmett chuckles. He slings his arm around my shoulders in a brotherly fashion and squeezes me. I duck my head in embarrassment because I'm still a furious shade of crimson. After a moment, I can feel Edward relax beside me. Sam begins to whine and nudges his owner's knee, causing Edward to shush and coo his dog into silence. We can all hear Rose's chattering on the phone in the background.

"It was fantastic, Bell." Emmett gives me another squeeze and grin.

"I would imagine. Congratulations to the both of you." To my surprise, Edward responds first. I slowly turn my head to peek at him from my curtain of hair, and although his face is set in stone, his eyes are not. When I reunited with him those months ago, his eyes were glazed and frozen. When had they thawed?

"Thank you!" Emmett's smile is blinding and the men shake hands – a gesture that occurs with both of them reaching over me. After their exchange is over, I shift.

"I'll start dinner," I clumsily stand up then turn to face Edward. "You're welcome to stay if you'd like." He gazes at me with an unnamed emotion and then gets up as well.

"I'll help you." I begin to object but then Emmett lazily sprawls over the entire sofa, covering every square inch – interrupting me. He stretches, causing his tall body to spill over the edge, and then yawns. Edward and I turn to look at him, although Edward has a tinkle of amusement in his eyes while my eyebrow is raised. During a second yawn, Emmett looks at us and begins to laugh.

"What?" He grabs the remote.

"Nothing," Edward chuckles. "Bella, shall we?" He gestures for me to lead the way to the kitchen first. Rose has retired to her bedroom to have her marathon phone session with Alice. While in the kitchen, I open the fridge and fumble around.

"May I?" Edward asks and points to Sam. I nod in acceptance, causing Edward to retrieve a mug from the sink. He fills it with water and sets it on the kitchen floor. I can hear Sam lapping it up while I push a bottle of ketchup aside.

"What do you want for dinner?" I muffle from the inside of the fridge. Edward, leaning against the counter, erects himself to walk over to me.

"Silly woman, we already ate." There's a smile in his voice as he leans in toward my ear. I blush and turn my head to take a look at him, only to find he's a few inches from my face. How badly I want to tangle my fingers into his hair and kiss those lips…

"I know… But," I stumble. "Rose can't cook and Emmett is over for company. The poor man needs to eat." I can see a smile tugging at the corners of his lips, and in a swift second, his face is no longer there.

"Emmett?" Edward calls. He's leaning against the stove.

"Yeah, man?" Emmett's voice calls back from the den. Edward proceeds to glide into Emmett's vicinity and bends down to whisper something in his ear. As every second passes, Emmett's face grows lighter and increasingly mischievous. After about thirty seconds, Edward claps him on the back and swiftly returns to me.

"I told him to take her on some terribly complicated and romantic date. I suggested quite a few upscale places in the city," He half smiles. I roll my eyes and he continues. "It's so you don't have to cook." I give him a look.

"You didn't have to do that." I take a seat at the counter.

"Rosie, babe! Get off the phone and get your purse!" Emmett's voice booms throughout the apartment and permeates every crack in the doors. After about a minute, Rose emerges with her purse and a puzzled look. Emmett grabs her hand quickly, and without another second, runs her out the door. The slam causes Sam to look up curiously, but after that there is only the sound of the baseball game on the television. Edward disappears for a moment, but then returns with his briefcase, sets it on the counter and takes a seat across from me.

"Why do you carry it with you if you didn't have work today?" I point out. He shrugs the question off, almost ignoring it. He faces it toward him, clicks it open, pulls out a set of files and a pen and closes it again. He writes something down in his immaculate script and lifts his head up to gaze at me.

"What is your current stance on Elizabeth Black?" He asks me. I had completely forgotten that I was the one who decides if the trial is in her best interests or not. I haven't the slightest idea which side is morally or ethically correct, but all I know is that either way I'm going to ruin her life. She either loses her sister or herself. As I think about this, a nagging feeling dawns on me.

"Is that what you've been doing? Dropping the jerk façade to sway my opinion?" I angrily snap. He looks at me, surprised.

"No, it's just… I don't know what else to talk about." He says softly. His eyes are brimming with apology and I'm eighteen again.

"_Can you tell me how the Krebs cycle functions?" Edward muses, his eyes glittering. I glance briefly at his sheet and scoff._

"_You have the perfect diagram drawn right there." I tease. He scribbles out the diagram in a blue pen and scoots his chair closer to me._

"_Can you tell me how it functions?" He repeats, skimming his nose up my jaw line and resting it below my ear. My heart sputters and he sighs in content. We're in Charlie's kitchen, sitting at the wooden table doing homework._

"_Why would you scribble that out?" I giggle as he tickles me with his nose. "It was correct silly boy." He ignores me and trails soft kisses down, stopping at the base of my neck. His lips linger._

"_Let's not talk about that right now." He murmurs._

"_Then why did you bring it up?" I muster, blatantly distracted by his cold lips and the scent of his hair reaching my nostrils._

"_There was nothing else to talk about." He laughs into my neck and then pulls his head back. I playfully whack his shoulder and roll my eyes. He looks at my sheet, clicks his pen and then scribbles something onto it. I glance down to read: _EC + BS. _I giggle and raise my eyebrow at him. _

"_I'm sure I'll get full credit for this. Mr. Banner will love it." I tease._

"_Surely not as much as I love you. God, I hope not." We laugh in unison._

I look at him sadly and he looks down at his files abruptly. He scribbles something down in blue ink, lingering on his script.

"I think I should get going." His pen is pressed hard against the piece of paper. I just nod in response, trying to rein in my disappointment. He gives me a small smile and stands up, grabs his suitcase and snaps his fingers. Sam is at his side and after another polite smile, turns around and leaves me for the umpteenth time in my life. However, he leaves the lone piece of paper on the counter. I slowly pick it up, lightly turn it in my hands and read the single sentence: _You don't deserve me._ I can see the seeping pool of blue ink – the period – from where he pressed the tip of the pen hard. I crumple it in my hands and let it fall to the floor.

**Elizabeth POV – 3 Months Before Trial**

I'm sitting in Leah's hospital room with her and my mother. Leah is strapped in her bed trying to figure out a crossword puzzle. I'm sitting at the end of her bed while my mother is sitting in a chair reading a book. I flip through the channels on the wall-television, finally landing on an old show.

"What's a four-letter word pertaining to _Elpis_?" Leah lifts her head up. Her translucent hand is gripping the pencil and I can see the rivers of blue veins snaking down her forearm. My mom lifts her head up from her book.

"I don't know, sweetie."

"God? Greek? Roman?" I attempt all three.

"_Four_ letters, Liz." I scowl at her and she giggles. She uses that nickname to peeve me. Today is a good day. Good meaning Leah is healthy enough to yell at me for borrowing her mascara without permission. I mean, how was I supposed to ask for permission when she's practically been in an out of a coma for the past month?

"Zeus?" My mother offers.

"_Spes_." Dr. Cullen walks into the room.

"What's Spes?" My sister asks in a pleasant tone. Much more pleasant than she used with me – I might add. Dr. Cullen may as well be a sixth family member to us now.

"The Roman equivalent. Elpis is a Greek goddess." He unwraps his stethoscope and places his clipboard onto the side table.

"That could work." She mumbles and lightly etches the name in – lightly though, in case it needs erasing.

"Give me a number," Dr. Cullen checks Leah's IV. "Five?" He means on the pain scale.

"Three." Leah responds nonchalantly. The doctor sits down next to me at the edge of her bed. He smiles warmly at me and I take note of how little resemblance he has to his son. Oh, the irony. Family versus family; Elizabeth Black and Edward Cullen against the Black family and Carlisle Cullen. I wonder if they are on good terms. As I'm wondering all this, he then turns to Leah.

"It could be five in an hour. Maybe nine." He warns. My mom shoots her head up.

"But she's feeling great now!" My mother attempts. Dr. Cullen turns to her.

"Yes, but the lucid moments will begin to cease. This isn't APL. This is renal failure." The words sting below the belt. Leah is currently dying from kidney failure - not leukemia. She needs the kidney that I refuse to give her. Jake offered one of his, but her leukemia has depleted her frail body to a point where the organ must be a perfect match. This is exactly what I was conceived for and it goes hauntingly silent.

"But after the transplant – " My mom gets cut off by Carlisle. He is the only one brave enough to look at me. He pats my knee and then adjusts his tie.

"It is my understanding that the availability of an organ is still under discussion, Becca." All the air in the room goes thick and I'm almost certain I can hear the dripping of the IV. Leah is the one to break the silence.

"Will it hurt?" She asks softly. I don't know if she's talking about the imaginary transplant or death.

"No," Dr. Cullen gets up silently and retrieves his clipboard. "I'll make sure of that." I don't know if he's talking about the transplant or death either.

"Thanks for the truth." Leah murmurs. He turns around and his eyes are red-rimmed. This is when I realize he's talking about death.

"Don't thank me." He says quietly and strides out of the room, however, with a weight on him for he walked too heavily. After he exits, my mother folds into herself and emits a howling cry. Leah looks at me and then at the tubes protruding out of her body – her anchors. I understand and walk slowly over to my mom. I put a hand on her delicate shoulder, which is shaking from her sobs.

"Mom," I say. "Stop." But then she looks up at me with her hollow eyes.

"No, Elizabeth. _You_ stop." Her brown eyes are haunted, sending a shiver down my spine. I pause for a moment, but then I break away.

"_Hope_." I murmur quietly. My mother looks at me and asks,

"What?" I turn to Leah.

"A four-letter word pertaining to Elpis. Elpis is the goddess of Hope." And then I walk out of Leah's room.

…………

Later in the day, I'm sitting across from Bella in her office. I swivel around in her black chair out of boredom. She has a nice office; it's glass and located on the second floor of a firm on the east side of the city. Next to her nametag that reads _Isabella Swan_, she only has two objects. A mug filled with pens and writing utensils is the first object, and object two is a picture. As I lean in to peer at the picture, I can tell that it's faded. It's a picture of a dark-haired man wearing a suit, a beautiful auburn bride in his arms. They are grinning like the sun will never rise again. My assumption is that this is her parents' wedding photo. After lingering on the photo, I look up and gaze at Bella Swan. She's sitting at her desk and her hair is down today. _She's very pretty_, I think to myself. She has long, mahogany waves, which frame her pale, heart-shaped face. Her brown eyes are abnormally large, but they always tend to be brimming with something.

"Do you have a boyfriend?" I ask her.

"No!" She blurts out but then blushes. She bites her lip and then shrugs. "Do you?"

"I liked this guy named Felix. I went on one date with him to the movies but I don't know anymore," I make a face. "He tasted like onion and garlic. I mean, seriously! Pop some gum or something." Bella begins to laugh freely.

"I love how this determines your relationship." She giggles. I laugh along with her and wonder what my wedding photo will look like. I wonder what dress I'll wear, how I'll wear my hair. And then I think of how Leah won't be able to have one. This nags at me in the pit of my stomach and I shift around in her swivel chair.

"So what type do you go for?" I make another revolution.

"I don't know. Tall, handsome, charming." She leans against the desk and looks at me with amusement in her eyes.

"Do you think Edward is cute?" She nearly falls out of her chair. "Well, for an _older_ guy. I'm only thirteen but he's cute for a twenty-something year old." I swivel once again in the chair, my surroundings are blurred. Her eyes are wide but then she composes herself.

"I could… See how some women find him… attractive." She manages.

"He looks like one of those soap opera stars that Leah watches." Bella smiles at this and then absentmindedly runs her fingers through her hair.

"Why don't you go for him? He likes you, I think." I cup the base of my neck into my hand as I'm leaning against the armchair. Bella blushes and looks away.

"Do you ever talk to Jacob about boys? You know, as advice." She changes the subject.

"Yeah, right," I roll my eyes and run my fingers across the top of her shiny, wooden desk. She tilts her head slightly.

"Why not? Oh, is it like talking about it with your father? The last thing I talked about with Charlie was boys." She muses.

"Who's Charlie?" I ask while plucking a pen from her mug.

"My dad," She smiles slightly, reminiscing. Then she probes again. "Jacob seems like he would tell you about that kind of stuff." I uncap then re-cap the pen.

I scoff. "Nope. He'd laugh so hard he'd bust a rib, then he'd throw me a bunch of _Playboy_s and tell me to do research." Bella laughs freely at this. I touch the picture on her desk lightly.

"Are they your mom and dad?" I ask. She nods in response.

"Charlie and Renee. They didn't last, but then again, nothing ever does." She shrugs.

"Then why do you keep this?" I stare at their happy faces, a moment captured in time, but a moment long lost.

"Do you ever remember being happy?" Bella asks softly.

"No." I run the nail of my thumb along a groove in her desk.

"I remember it a long time ago." She says quietly. It's silent for a few minutes before I make another swivel in her chair and finger the picture again.

"It's weird to think I'm going to grow up and look like this one day. That I'm going to be married…" I knit my eyebrows together and sigh. That I'm going to be married and Leah isn't. Bella leans forward.

"What are you going to do when your sister dies, Elizabeth?" I shrug but don't meet her eyes.

"There's not much do when you lose your other half." I whisper.

"Then why don't you supply her the kidney?" Bella doesn't ask in a snappy tone. She's doing her job and asking as cordially as possible.

"Because," I lift my eyes to meet hers, "I want to have a life, too. I want to be a person. I'm not a person - I'm a _thing_. I'm something they extract parts out of to keep someone else alive. No one looks at me unless Leah needs a transplant or transfusion. In school, I'm known as the dying girl's sister. At home, I'm only good for spare parts. Why do you think Jacob is so juvenile? Because he's invisible. When I die, I will be on page twenty-four of the newspaper in the obituary column. Maybe my family, Felix, my social studies teacher Ms. Verner, and some girls from the soccer team will come. Maybe you and Edward will come. Carlisle too. And when Leah dies, the city will go. All the hospital staff, all the school, _everybody_ will go. She'll be on the front page, mark my words. I'm tired of being a thing and not an individual. I want to know what living a life is like." I finish and then sigh deeply. Bella slowly wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and then smiles weakly.

"Well, we'll fix that." She concludes quietly.

**EPOV – 2 Months Before Trial**

Alice is six months pregnant. I've found I've been spending an increasing amount of time at her and Jasper's apartment – purely for overprotective brother reasons. Help me so if she slips and falls under my watchful eye. Not only is my twin three months from giving birth, but tomorrow is the day of her wedding. I'm sitting in my apartment with Sam at my feet, reading the morning paper. I glance at the headline: _Successful Fashion Designer Set to Wed Respectable Architect Tomorrow_. Of course her wedding would make the front page – she wouldn't settle for anything less. I take a sip of my coffee and glance at the photo of them. It's in black and white, with Alice in the arms of Jasper. For a moment, I think about calling and informing her, but I internally chuckle at the ridiculous impulse; it's probably framed in her apartment already. I take a larger sip of my coffee and a diminutive notion flashes across my mind. My tuxedo is hanging in my closet, I've memorized my speech, I understand where to stand – the amount of rehearsals was ridiculous – yet, I still do not have a date. Not only that, but I'm expected to behave as a raving, drunken imbecile at the bachelor party tonight.

Tanya and Jane Volturi were most definitely out of the question. I'm terribly disappointed in myself that their names popped into my head, actually. Jessica Stanley, my secretary, is a decent woman, but I'd much rather keep our relationship professional. With her, I can almost guarantee that she will attempt everything opposite of such. Lauren Mallory is also absolutely out of the question. My brain cell count is still suffering from that blind date I had with her once upon a time. I pick up my phone and dial the number that's embedded into my mind.

"Hello?" She answers. Her beautiful voice sounds fatigued.

"Hello, Bella. This is Edward – " She cuts me off.

"I know. How can I help you, Edward?" We're no longer hostile but that still does not make all our conversations at ease. I shift my weight in the chair and ensure my words come out fluidly.

"I was simply wondering if you could do me the lovely pleasure of accompanying me to the wedding tomorrow." I coax. My heart is pounding through my chest in anticipation. There's a few seconds of silence before she responds.

"I-I guess… I can do that." She stammers.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow." I snap the phone shut and then my heart begins to chorus. A feeling of happiness spreads from my fingers to my toes – a feeling that breaks through the ice particles frozen in my veins.

…………

I'm in the car with Emmett, Jasper and God help me – James. James is Jasper's closest colleague, a fact I'm not entirely pleased with. In the limousine en route to the VIP club, I loosen my tie a bit.

"That's the way, Edward!" Emmett roars. He already has a shot in his hand, his tie is swept over his shoulder. I chuckle as his antics, although he's immature, he's a decent man to have an eventful night with. Jasper laughs at this and loosens his tie as well.

"Join in, Jazz! Down them shots, this is your last night as a free man!" Emmett booms and he proceeds to make animalistic noises. James eyes me venomously before popping a bottle of complimentary champagne.

"Emmett," I chuckle. "Calm down, you're going to kill the poor man." Instead of backing off Emmett thrusts a shot of tequila into my hand and claps me on the back.

"Drink, my friend! You work too hard, loosen up a bit," He turns and points to Jasper, flashing a grin. "Now this one _really_ needs it. He only has one more night to be free and three months before he's changing diapers." He howls and Jasper laughs again before raising his shot glass and downing the bitter alcohol. Although this is what I was irate about earlier, I chuckle, raise my glass to the three men and swallow my drink.

Fifteen minutes later, the four of us are sitting at a table in the corner of the club. Emmett has already consumed enough alcohol to kill an average man, yet his body is designed to withstand the said amount and more. James has barely acknowledged me all night while Jasper – the poor man – is getting mauled with alcohol and women.

"How long have you been engaged now, Jazz?" James asks after consuming his vodka and gritting his teeth.

"Five months." Jasper grins and raises his arms over his head.

"To my sister!" I raise my glass and Jasper and Emmett roar before raising their own. I've had about six now - the point where I feel decently content and fuzzy. Just then, Emmett snaps his fingers and a moment later a buxom blonde waitress appears at our table.

"How can I help you boys?" She flashes a seductive smile at the three others, but when she turns to me, lingers and then winks. I sigh internally.

"Yes, you see, my best friend here is getting married tomorrow. This is his last night to live in sin! Is there anyway you can help him out?" Emmett guffaws and Jasper smiles sheepishly – he's still introverted while intoxicated.

"Don't do anything too ridiculous. You still have your pregnant fiancée at home." I chuckle, obviously joking, but I made Alice as promise as well that I'd monitor Jasper.

"Oh sure! Married! I'll get a few of my girls for y'all." She tinkles in a southern accent. As she passes us by, she takes the time to walk very slowly past me. Five minutes and two more shots later, the blonde waitress reappears with three other women. The other men have had far more to drink than I and I hope that they can keep it under control, albeit James. The original blonde waitress walks over to my side of the table and takes a seat next to me – far too close for my comfort. The other three go to their respective men and the night commences.

"Hi, Tiger. What's your name?" She coos. I blink in response and shift politely away from her – closer to God help me – James.

"Hello, I'm Edward." I smile cordially.

"So your friend is getting married?" She flashes a bright smile and flips her prosthetic platinum hair.

"To my sister." I nod and then take a swig of the beer Emmett just slid to me across the table.

"Oh wow! I bet she's real pretty if you're her brother." She inches closer to me. Her name-tag says _Kim_. I shrug off the compliment and ease around it.

"We're twins." I say.

"Even better. I'd be jealous if I saw her." She giggles and props her elbows up onto the table. Although I'm decently intoxicated, I cannot bring myself to call this woman voluntarily attractive. Of course, she is, my testosterone is blaring in neon lights. However, the woman buried deep into the crevices of my thoughts is emerging; it's all I can think of. Bella. This woman, Kim, does not have anywhere near Bella's beauty or intelligence. This is why I hate drinking to excess – I'm going to reach my mourning and self-pitying stage soon.

"She's lovely." I compliment my twin. And take a smaller swig of beer this time.

"You have a girlfriend?" She tilts her head to the side and I can see that her grey eyes are flat. They have no depth to them, unlike Bella's gorgeous chocolate-brown ones. James leans into my ear.

"Yeah, how's Bella?" He hisses. He withdraws his head and his venomous stare does not faze me. I ignore him and turn my head a fraction of an inch toward Kim.

"I do." I lie. I think of Bella and how soft her hair is.

"Oh," I can see the disappointment flash across her face. "Is it serious?" She probes. I think of Bella's soft lips.

"Yes." I half-lie. Only half, because it is unrequited. I'm irretrievably and hopelessly in love with her, although she does not return the same. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see James flash a glare.

"Do you live together?" Kim attempts and scoots even closer toward me. Momentarily, I disregard her question and can see that Emmett and Jasper are enjoying themselves – while keeping it reasonable. Their laughter indicates their happiness, not from the alcohol and club girls, but from the women in their lives. They have Alice and Rose while I have no one. I have someone in my mind, but she's only a memory now.

"No." I finally respond. This is truth. She giggles.

"Well then it can't be _that_ serious." She places her hand on my knee and I swiftly and politely slide it off.

"I assure you," I smile slightly and take a small sip of beer. "It is."

As the night goes on, I spend the rest of it maneuvering around Kim, drinking to excess, laughing with my friends – albeit James, and thinking of Bella. Bella makes up eighty-percent of the night. It's well past midnight and the amount of empty glasses and bottles on the table in front of us is ludicrous.

At one in the morning, Emmett comes to my side of the table and tugs at my arm. Kim and her co-workers left about an hour ago – to my relief. The alcohol had spread throughout my system, concluding me as potentially very intoxicated.

"What's wrong with you, man?" He slurs.

"What are you talking about?" I ask. His face is going in and out of focus.

"You're single! Me and Jazz," He stumbles for a second and then steadies himself against me. "Aren't. Why didn't you get with that girl? She was all over you." I can hear Jasper's drunken laughter in the background. I just shrug in response and blink multiple times, attempting to straighten out my vision.

"Man, I know why," Emmett lightly punches my shoulder and laughs. "It's Bella, right? It's _Bella_." He guffaws and I scowl.

"No it's not."

"Yeah. You love her! Jazz!" He calls over my shoulder. "Edward still loves Bella, I told you!" I scowl again.

"When did I say he didn't?" Jaspers laughs.

"I don't know, that's besides the point," Emmett ruffles his hair and sways again. "Say it, Edward. Say you love her!" He roars and the guffaws.

"You're plastered, Emmett." I rebuke.

"So are you!" He laughs and then I crack a smile.

"Come on, don't do this." I attempt.

"Ed! Stop burying it and let it out!" He roars.

"Okay," I sigh deeply. The room is spinning. "Okay. I love her." I hold my breath, but after a minute, smile widely, content with finally putting it out there after eight years. Jasper and Emmett roar in content and dance around like buffoons. This goes on for minutes while James does not meet my gaze. They're still cheering and jostling me when a sudden trace of regret flashes across my mind. What would be the repercussions in the morning? Then, without another thought, I just didn't care anymore. I stand up, grab Emmett's arm to steady myself and then smile widely.

"I love Isabella Swan! I _love_ Isabella Marie Swan!" I yell across the room with a grin and everyone swells in whistles and cheers. After a minute of basking in the freedom of having it out there, Emmett thrusts tequila into my hand and shakes my shoulder; the smile is still on my face, but on the inside, I want to breakdown. My sister, pregnant and glowing, is going to be wed tomorrow. My date, the love of my life, my unrequited love, feels none of this for me. We're just friends. Just goddamn _friends_. And I just drunkenly and publicly confessed my dusty, cob-webbed feelings for her.

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**Thanks for reading! Reviews and such make my day**

**I just want it to be Friday already... Thursdays are too long and tedious**

**I'll update sooner! Alice's wedding will be next**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	11. The Pixie & The Southern

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

I wake up with a headache equivalent to a size ten on the Richter scale. I'm almost convinced that there's a fissure in my brain, and I groan loudly as a pair of small hands are vigorously shaking me to consciousness.

"Get up." Alice demands. I crack one eye open a centimeter and find her standing above me, clad in her maternity nightgown. I squeeze my eyes shut and roll my back to her, my face inches from her living room sofa.

"_Up_." She lightly smacks my shoulder blade. I moan incoherently into the couch and nestle myself into a more comfortable position.

"I would jump on you, but in three months time you'll understand how lucky you are now." She threatens. I laugh once, muffled, into the couch and ignore her demands.

"_Edward!_" She rages. "I'll rip your head off." She furiously shakes my shoulder.

"Please do." I mumble. A splitting pain sears through my head and I internally wince. I make a silent promise to myself that I will never drink again. But then Alice puts on the pity show.

"You… You don't want to see me get married?" She says in a small voice. "I thought… I thought you'd be as happy as me on this day. We're connected in a way that many people aren't…" Her acting skills are impeccable. I roll over so my back is now facing the sofa and crack one eye open.

"You evil pixie." I hiss under my breath and proceed to groggily haul myself from her sofa. I clutch my bare chest and yawn loudly. She smirks at me but then clutches her belly and winces in pain. Immediately flung into overprotective brother mode, I'm already on my feet.

"What's wrong?" I probe, alerted. She tinkles in giggles.

"Oh, Edward. Nothing's wrong, calm down. The baby just kicked." She contentedly sighs and I cautiously eye her swollen belly. I possess skills that many do not, I have the knowledge of one of the top percent in the nation, but this is an area I'm completely lost in. I zone in on Alice's stomach and shift my weight.

"May… I?" I hesitate and then reluctantly put one hand forward, indicating at her stomach. She nods in response and I carefully and lightly place my left hand on the peak of her belly. I feel nothing and I frown slightly, but then I feel a kick. And another. And another one. My eyes go wide in bewilderment and I gape at the interaction I'm having with my unborn niece or nephew. Alice places her hands on her belly, cradling it, and peels in laughter.

"It likes you." She coos. I merely smile in response and keep my hand on her belly. After a minute I withdraw my hand and ruffle my hair.

"What time is it?" I fail to suppress a yawn.

"Six." She shrugs. I roll my eyes and then flop onto the couch.

"Six, Alice? Do you understand the war that is erupting within my head? There are at least five bombs going off every minute."

"What did you expect? It's my wedding day." She simply responds and I scold myself for not foreseeing this last night; I would have to wake up unbearably early and aid her every moment of the day. I bitterly think of how easily Jasper got off. Due to the bride-cannot-see-the-groom-before-the-altar tradition, he got to crash at Emmett's while I was stuck with drunkenly passing out on Alice's couch. I cannot remember falling asleep here last night, yet this is reasonable. I see my pants, shirt and tie on the floor. I also spot a glass of water and two, tiny pills of aspirin on the coffee table – assumptive compliments of Alice. Bless her. I reach for the pills and water.

"You may be evil, but you're angelic at times." I mutter before popping the aspirin into my mouth and downing them with a gulp of water. She peels in laughter and tugs at my arm.

"Come on, let's go! There's so much to do!" I groan; her wedding is not for seven hours.

…………

At eight in the morning, Alice's apartment is filled with countless make-up designers, hairdressers and her minions – pardon, I meant colleagues. Not too long ago, my sister demanded her assistant rush to my apartment and retrieve two things: my tuxedo and Sam. Thirty minutes after giving the poor man my apartment key, he returns – bursting through the door wielding the plastic-encased suit, my key and Sam bounded by a leash.

"Thank you." I smile apologetically at the assistant while I sling the tuxedo over my arm, nab the key between my fingers and fluidly release Sam from his leash. Sam nuzzles my knee, but before I can ruffle his fur I am mauled.

"Mr. Cullen, we need to get you dressed." One man rips the tuxedo from my arm while another begins to push me toward the bedroom. Sam loyally trots behind me while I emit a long sigh. The two men wait for me outside the door while I slip into the black tuxedo, and once I emerge from the room I'm attacked once again.

"Here, sir, let me do the bow for you." He reaches for my bowtie.

"Now let's straighten you out." The other man begins to fidget with my jacket. I'm unconditionally irate; I've gotten the tux fitted several different times. Several moments later, the first man claps his hands and the second drags me back toward the den. Before I can blink, I'm tackled by a woman who pushes me down onto the sofa.

"My, my, what are we going to do with your hair?" She tsk-tsks. She grabs an unreasonable amount of hair product and five different sets of combs and begins to work on my flyaway hair.

Tinkering with my appearance only required about an hour of time, so while I'm waiting for Alice – who is taking much longer, I might add – I'm silently flipping through one of her catalogs on the sofa. I have a basic foundation for fashion sense, yet high fashion is not my forte. How can people wear such ridiculous and frivolous outfits that designers throw into runway shows? I furrow my brow and shake my head while I take note of a model sporting a neon green jumpsuit paired with shiny yellow pumps. Sam is curled up at my feet. He is wearing a small bowtie on his collar, the poor creature. Our tiny vicinity is contradictorily peaceful to that of our surrounding environment. The bustling of a plethora of assistants and fashion experts are going on around us while I can make out the occasional yelling of Alice. Her pregnancy hormones have been peaking lately and I immediately pity every person in the room.

Just then, there's a knock at the door and one of the hairdressers milling around let's the person on the other side in. In comes Bella, clad in a royal blue, floor-length strapless dress. (Check dress in profile) It hugs her body exquisitely, snugly wrapping in the right places and then cascading down in a waterfall of blue fabric. Her mahogany waves trail down her creamy shoulders and back and I cannot bring myself to look away from her beauty. She gets tackled as well and is dragged over to my sofa.

"Let's do your hair." A female hairdresser sets her down and then runs her fingers through Bella's hair. Bella shoots me a look of confusion and helplessness.

"I had to go through the same thing." I smile at her. She rolls her eyes and then smiles as well. Bella is Alice's maid of honor – she has to endure the unfortunate mishap of pre-wedding chaos as well. Alice's head appears from behind a doorway down the hall.

"Bella!" She calls. "You're late!" I barely catch a glimpse of my sister's dress.

"Sorry!" Bella calls back meekly while the hairdresser is working her magic. We sit side-by-side in silence and I cannot bring myself to focus on the catalog any longer. I turn to her.

"I really love that color on you." She blushes a shade of crimson and averts her gaze downward.

"Alice is making us all wear the same dress. It looked much better on Rose." She says inwardly and I lightly touch her bare shoulder.

"I assure you, you look stunning." Her shade of red doubles in color and she bites her lip.

"You look handsome yourself." I smile warmly but before I can respond a man with a plethora of makeup in his hands rushes over to us.

"Close your eyes." He demands to Bella. She obliges and he commences on masking her already perfect face.

A countless amount of time later, Bella's transformation is complete. Thick, black lashes frame her gorgeous brown eyes while her lips are slightly pouted in a shade of light pink. Her cheekbones are dusted lightly in the same shade while the rest of her complexion is a milky white. Her mahogany hair now has a glossy shine to it, yet the way they cascaded down her body was not changed. She is wearing no accessories, only the blue gown. I drink her in and my heart speeds up a bit.

"You look… phenomenal." I manage. Other adjectives describing her beauty sit at the tip of my tongue but I push them back down my throat. She blushes slightly, accenting the rogue on her cheekbones and then smiles. I think back eight years and imagine how she looked on our prom night. She was gorgeous then and she is now, but as she sits next to me I feel an aching longing in my bones. We stare at one another, both of us wanting to say something, yet no words come out. Suddenly Alice emerges from the shadows of her bedroom. She looks wonderful, clad in a cream, floor-length dress. The bosom is laced and the dress was fitted perfectly to glide gracefully over her bump. There is a white bow that sits conveniently atop her swollen belly and she sports a single daisy in her raven crop of hair. Her skin is glowing with that of maternity _and _marriage. I feel a prick in my eyes at the sight of my glowing sister, dressed up to perfection on her big day. (Check dress in profile)

"Well?" She demands.

"Oh, Alice. You look amazing." Bella praises and then smiles genuinely. After the prick in my glazed eyes subdue, I swiftly rise. I carefully walk over to her and place a hand on her frail shoulder.

"Alice," I begin. "I knew this day would come for awhile, but I never realized how quickly. You… You didn't disappoint, dear sister. You look beautiful – glowing even. I've never been prouder, Al." I murmur quietly and her pregnancy hormones wash over her.

"Oh, Edward! I love you," She wails into my chest and I wrap my arms around her – her bump between us. After a moment she pulls away and smiles. "I'm so glad that we've fixed everything." She says quietly and I smile in return. From the corner of my eye, I notice Bella standing up and then, she's at my side. I courteously turn to her and Alice gazes at us curiously.

"Can I talk to you privately?" She whispers, her chocolate-brown eyes are large, brimming orbs. I nod in response and we leave Alice and Sam in the living room.

We're in Alice and Jasper's bedroom. It's very modern and open and a ray of sunshine filters in through the window.

"I heard you had fun last night." Bella slightly smiles. _Oh no. _I think.

"Potentially." I shrug and half-smile at her. She blinks a few times, pauses and then takes a clumsy seat at the end of their bed. She traces patterns into the blanket with her forefinger and then raises her head to meet my eyes.

"Did you mean it?" She asks softly. Her eyes are brimming with emotion and I am immediately torn between telling her my true feelings or stashing them away like usual.

"Would I lie?" It's an evasive question.

"Yes," She laughs once. "What's the dog for, Edward?" She smiles slightly.

"I'm deaf in one ear," She laughs again and rolls her eyes. I walk toward her and take a seat next to her. I can feel the heat from her body and the aching feeling in my bones rises again. This is enough to decide for me. "I did."

"You did what?" She turns to me and I can smell her scent – strawberries.

"I did mean it." It goes silent for a moment and for the umpteenth time there is nothing to say. But this is different than any other time. This time, it isn't a haunting silence - it's a longing silence.

"Edward… I..." There's a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. _This is it_. I decide. _This is when she's going to avenge herself and break my heart_. To my surprise, she takes my hand in her own. Her skin is silk and I have the urge to clasp the hand that's on top of mine. "Don't know what to say." She whispers and looks at me sadly. I'm torn, but then I suddenly brush the back of my hand against her cheek. I'm almost certain I can hear her heartbeat quicken and all is silent. Before I can pull my hand away, she brings up her left one and places it on my wrist – keeping me in place.

Right and wrong are no longer black and white in my mind now; they are shades of grey. And I finally decide that I'm tired of deciding what is right and what is wrong. I slowly turn my hand over on her face so that I am now cupping it – her hand is still on my wrist. I lightly stroke my thumb across her cheek and her breathing stops. Then, ignoring everything pertaining to righteousness, I lean in. Her brown eyes go wide and her breathing quickens. Our noses are barely touching and I gaze into her eyes with an intensity that even I cannot describe. Bella's shallow breathing hits my lips and our breaths mingle together in between the inch that parts us from us touching. She places her other hand onto my shoulder but then slowly drags it sideways, finally ending up on my neck. She cups the back of my neck, causing a shiver to trickle down my spine. We stay like this for a few more seconds, until I close my eyes and eliminate the inch between us. My lips touch hers for a mere half-second before the door barges open, revealing Alice.

"Oh!" She exclaims, embarrassed. "I'm so sorry. Ah, continue, continue. Be quick though, Mother and Father are here." Her eyes are wide and she quickly flees the scene, closing the door behind her. I would have to greet my parents relatively soon, as in a few minutes. I sigh deeply and begin to breakaway from Bella, but she doesn't release her hands from my neck and wrist. Understanding that this is a green light, I still act hesitantly.

"Are you scared, Edward Cullen?" She teases. I'm stumped by her sudden boost of confidence. After I snap out of my amazement, I cup her face again and decide to trail kisses up and down her delicate neck. Each kiss is slow and careful and I linger at every one. When I reach the beautiful curve of her collarbone, she impatiently moves her hand from my wrist to my neck – making her hands parallel on either side. She attempts to push me back and I pull back out of courtesy, but not without feeling disappointed and curious. Before I can ask, she is inches from my face and runs a finger across my bottom lip. The heat of her finger still lingers, causing me to yearn for more of her warmth. I close my eyes and finally, our lips touch. Her lipstick tastes sweet and so does her breath. But Bella does something that completes me; she kisses me back. We stay like this, connected, for who knows how long. I move my hand from her face to her waist, my other hand on the bed for support. She moves her hands from my neck to my hair, her fingers running through them. Then, there's a knock at the door and we abruptly part. I take a look at her - she's flushed but beautiful as always. However, when she takes a look at me she begins to laugh loudly.

"Edward," She laughs and then brings her hands to my face. "Look at yourself." I turn to the wall mirror in the bedroom and see that my hair, which was once somewhat tamed, is now messy again. However, this is not the ultimate crime. The icing on the cake is that my mouth is patterned in light pink lip marks. My upper lip, bottom lip and the corners of my mouth are tainted in the lipstick and Bella begins to smear the makeup off with her thumbs. She's laughing while she does this, and I begin to laugh too.

…………

My mother, father, sister, Bella, Sam and I arrive at the Ritz-Carlton at eleven. People are milling around, trying to set up the final decorations. The grandiose hotel is masked in a sea of pink and white. Pink and white ribbons, ornaments, gossamer, decorations and roses are displayed all over and Bella's eyes go wide. We all lead Alice to her respective room – the room she'll be waiting in for the next two hours. As the six of us are walking toward the room, I wrap my arm around Bella's waist. My mother beams at us, obviously pleased that we are now cordial whether the gesture was romantic or platonic.

We all take seats in the posh and grand room. The white wallpaper is lined in gold and the furniture is out of Buckingham Palace - A picture-esque room of ostentatious perfection. Esme turns to Alice, who is sitting in an obnoxiously decorated and extravagant chair.

"Oh, Alice. I can't believe this day has come." My mother wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and my father lovingly wraps an arm around her. Alice beams in response and places a small hand over her heart. And then my mother turns to me.

"And we're so very proud of you as well, Edward." She smiles proudly at me and my father nods with a small yet warm smile.

"Thank you Mom. Thank you Dad." I turn to each of them. I still have not taken a seat, for I gave up mine for Bella. They now turn to her.

"Bella, look at you! You're so lovely now. How is everything?" Esme exclaims and Bella blushes slightly.

"Things are fine, Mrs. Cullen. Thank you for asking." She responds in her soft voice and smiles. My heart quickens.

"She's always been so polite. She's such a dear." My mother whispers into my father's ear and he agrees with a nod.

As time passes, people come in and out of the room. Alice's colleagues, old friends from Hamden, old friends from Forks, friends of the family and her new city friends have begun to trickle in and out of the room, wishing her a congratulatory remark and then fleeing. Rose and Emmett did stay for a while - but this is something even I could have guessed. Rose is perched next to Alice, a glass of champagne in her hand. The sight of the alcohol makes my stomach churn and Emmett and I glance at one another in an all-knowing way. We both laugh, nothing needs to be said.

Those two hours in that room is like an explosive waiting to detonate. It is difficult to keep myself from looking at Bella, from drinking in her beauty and yearning for her in my arms. I can sense she has a difficult time doing the same, causing the static electricity of our chemistry to ignite the room on fire. We lock eyes more than once, and after she blushes a beauteous crimson, it is parted by a small smile.

At twelve forty-five, the wedding director glides into our room. He's wielding a clipboard and a walkie-talkie, clad in a dark suit. He glances at my sister.

"It's time, Ms. Cullen." My father gently helps Alice up while my mother throws herself into my chest.

"She's so grown up, Edward." Esme can no longer compose herself. I wrap my arms around my small mother and sway her until her cries subdue. She now takes her place at Alice's side while my father pats me on the back before taking Sam's leash. Bella and I must go first, we must take our places at the altar. As we're walking down the hall, she grabs my first three fingers in her hand and swings our arms back and forth. I begin to laugh and she giggles, and it is then I imagine us doing the same thing on a day like this – except her being the bride and I, the groom. I immediately shoo the thought from my head and we take our respective spots up at the altar.

I stand behind Emmett, Jasper's best man, while Bella is on the opposite side, Alice's maid of honor. I see my mother walk in with Sam on a leash and she takes a seat. A moment later, Jasper and Mrs. Whitlock stride down the aisle. His mother is clutching his elbow as they take slow, counted steps. They reach the altar and he kisses her cheek delicately before straightening his tuxedo out and smiling politely at the priest. I can't help myself, and I find myself looking at Bella again. She looks at me as well and I wink at her. She blushes a shade of pink and I chuckle under my breath. A few moments later, Wagner's March commences and I see my sister emerge, arm-in-arm with my father. Alice is glowing and her face is masked in serenity. Her hand instinctively touches her belly lightly as the two, pardon, _three_ of them walk slowly down the aisle. I can feel my eyes prick at the sight of her and my father places his daughter's hand into that of Jasper's. After kissing her on the forehead, Carlisle takes a seat next to my mother. It is silent for a moment, but then it is pierced.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the holy matrimony of Jasper H. Whitlock and Mary Alice Cullen," The priest begins. "Marriage is a sacred pact, one that cannot be broken…" He continues with his readings and all I can focus on is how beautiful the two women in my life look: Bella and Alice. After focusing on both their beauty, I tune back in to the priest a few minutes later.

"Do you, Jasper H. Whitlock, take Mary Alice Cullen to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish and to hold? To love her, to comfort her, to honor and to keep her? To care for in sickness and in health? Forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live? Until death do you part?" The priest turns to Jasper. He stands up straighter, squeezes Alice's hand and says in a clear voice,

"I do." The priest now turns to Alice.

"Do you, Mary Alice Cullen, take Jasper H. Whitlock to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish and to hold? To love him, to comfort him, to honor and to keep him? To care for in sickness and in health? Forsaking all others, be faithful to him, as long as you both shall live? Until death do you part?" She smiles widely, looks Jasper dead in the eye and trills,

"I do."

"The rings please." The priest says and Emmett steps forward, wielding their wedding bands. Alice and Jasper exchange rings and I can hear my mother softly crying in the audience.

"You may now kiss the bride." Jasper delicately takes Alice's face into his hands and cranes his neck down to plant a soft, sweet kiss onto her lips. When they part, the entire room rises and erupts in applause.

…………

Alice became a Mrs. Whitlock at one-twenty in the afternoon earlier today. The mass of people congregated for the reception later the evening, and here we are. Mr. and Mrs. Whitlock are currently having their first dance while all of us witness the love and magic they leave in their wake. I look down at Bella standing next to me; she looks beautiful. After Alice and Jasper's dance finishes, I stride up to my sister and traditionally ask for her hand.

"Congratulations." I look down at her. My hand is delicately perched on the side of her large belly, the other clasps her own in mine.

"Thank you!" She trills and beams at me. She's wearing a lace, pink dress. The sleeves are long and belled while she sports simple, silver flats. I'll be damned if my pregnant sister is teetering around in heels. (Check dress in profile)

"I'm so happy for you." I continue. She smiles in response. We continue to have our sibling dance until Emmett approaches us and insists he dances with the new bride. Before I part, I kiss Alice on the cheek and pat Emmett on the back.

"Can't say I'll be drinking tonight." I joke to him and he roars in laughter. I spot Bella through the mass of people and begin to make my way toward her. However, I feel a tap on my shoulder.

"Hello, Edward." A melodic voice floats from behind me. I turn around to look at the woman and realize that it is my old classmate, Tanya Volturi.

"Hello, Tanya. How are you?" I ask politely. She takes a step toward me.

"Very well, thank you. And yourself? How are your brother and sister?" I'm referring to her younger set of twin siblings, Jane and Alec. I clasp my hands behind my back and she flips her styled hair.

"Fine to both. They're around here somewhere," She smiles at me and I smile politely in response. I begin to discreetly fidget; I'd rather reach Bella first as opposed to James. "Would you like to dance?" She surprises me. Not intending to be impolite, I grudgingly hold my hand out, gesturing for her to take it.

We dance together, amongst the sweet music of the violinists and cellists. Her curled, strawberry-blonde bob bounces as we sway and I cannot bring myself to make eye contact with her dark green irises. No doubt a lovely woman, but Tanya is no more than a friend to me. Our families have been too close for far too long, although her parents would be most definitely pleased if we were to date. I have the relief of saying my parents would rather me be content than trying to create a puzzle with pieces that don't fit. Our dance is silent, not an uncomfortable silence, yet a typical silence.

"How is work?" She looks up at me and I finally make eye contact with her.

"My current case is… A bit different than most," I shrug. "How is work for you?" Tanya is a professional ballet dancer – her parents are wealthy and drove her into the ground regarding dance while she was young. This is how Alice and Tanya met, and ultimately our families. Alice was once a dancer, a wonderful one at that, yet her love of fashion eclipsed her love of dance.

"Fine, I've had to travel a lot." She sighs.

"I would imagine." I respond.

"How's Bella?" It goes quiet for a bit before I laugh lightly.

"How is she or how are we?" I raise an eyebrow.

"How are you both?" She flips her hair over her shoulder.

"I'm not sure." I answer honestly. She smiles.

"You two really cared for each other," I merely nod in response. She continues. "I recently moved in with someone." Tanya beams. I feel a heavy weight being lifted off my shoulders and I genuinely smile this time.

"That's fantastic, Tanya. Who with?"

"A fellow named Demetri. I met him while on tour, he's wonderful." She says dreamily and I congratulate her once again.

…………

**BPOV**

While Emmett went off to have a dance with Alice, I decide to have a dance with Jasper. He looks handsome on his big day, and he beams when I approach him.

"Congratulations!" I say as I embrace him warmly.

"Thank you, Bella," He smiles at me and places a hand on my shoulder. "Would you like to have this dance with me?" I nod and we commence.

"This is a really great party, Jazz." I comment while he manages to tower over me while we dance. He looks down at me with his dark blue eyes, they're sparkling.

"I'm glad you could be part of all this." He beams and I'm suddenly content. Content that two of my very best friends are now wedded, that another two of my friends are engaged, that my non-biological sister is expecting and that Edward and I beginning to fill the void of those eight years. That is, until I see him dancing with Tanya Volturi. My stomach drops and so does my composure.

"Is everything alright?" Jasper asks, concerned. I nod meekly; disconcerted by the fact Tanya is in Edward's arms. He looks in the direction I'm staring at and sighs.

"Oh, Bella, you have nothing to worry about. You look twenty times far more stunning than her right now." Jasper encourages. I rest my head lightly on his shoulder for a moment, then bring it upright once again.

"Thanks, Jazz." I mumble. For the rest of our dance, I attempt to sneak peeks at Edward and Tanya. At one point, they were laughing in unison, another blow to my heart. At the end of the song, I decide to let Jasper dance with the other countless sea of people.

"Don't let it ruin your night, Bell." Jasper smiles warmly at me. I immediately feel a sense a calm, a feeling I usually get while around him.

I proceed to make my way over to a table while fixing my ridiculous orange dress that Rose forced me to wear. (Check dress in profile) As I take a seat, I flop my purse onto the table and readjust my right, white heel.

"Hi." I hear his musical, fluid voice in my ear. My heart begins to beat faster but I take a deep breath, attempting to slow it. I turn around and mask my face in apathy.

"Hello." He smirks and takes a seat next to me.

"Enjoying the party?" I ask dryly. He raises an eyebrow and leans forward on the table, inching toward me. My heart rate doubles and I bite my lip.

"How ever do you mean?" He teases. I huff and then cross my arms.

"It's nice to know that I come in second, after Tanya, even after eight years," I state sourly, giving him a look. He furrows his brow and I continue before he can speak. "And this _morning_, I mean I thought –"

But he cuts me off. "Bella," He chuckles. "What are you talking about? Tanya is a friend of the family. Besides, she has a boyfriend." He nonchalantly flicks a particle of nothing off the lapel of his jacket. My heart suddenly reforms itself and I internally sigh in relief.

"Oh." I respond in a small voice. He laughs and then takes my hand.

…………

A few hours later, the reception is winding down. The speeches have been made, the gifts have been given, the food has been consumed and the champagne has been toasted. After congratulating the new couple for the umpteenth time and bidding farewell to my old Hamden friends, I begin to make my way toward Rose. However, Edward intervenes.

"Would you like to come over and watch a movie with me?" He asks in his beautiful voice. My heart swoons and I have to compose myself.

"I guess." I bite my lip, hesitant.

"Oh come on, Bella. I have your favorite ice cream in my freezer." He smiles my favorite crooked smile and I am silly-puddy in his hands.

…………

Edward and I are consuming chocolate chip ice cream while watching _The Shining_. We are sitting on opposite sofas, a tub of ice cream on my lap and a spoon in my mouth. He mirrors my position.

"Why is it Jack Nicholson goes crazy?" I point to the television with my spoon.

"The hotel is haunted, silly woman. He has voices in his head." Edward laughs lightly and Sam trots over to lick my toes. My feet are red from the heels and it feels wonderful to let them breathe. I make a face at the actor on the screen and put a spoonful of ice cream in my mouth.

"He's incredibly creepy." I mutter while spearing the tub again with my spoon. Edward brushes his fingers through his gorgeous hair.

"It's a horror movie, Bella." Edward smiles. He then gets up and walks over toward my sofa wielding his spoon. He sticks it into my tub of ice cream and scoops some out.

"You have your own, you greedy person!" I laugh, attempting to evade the attack of his spoon by shifting the tub to my other side. He takes a fluid seat next to me.

"The voices in my head told me to do it." He teases, waving the silver utensil. I scowl at him and flick his shoulder. He laughs loudly just as Sam curls up into a ball at our feet. Feeling content, I place the ice cream and spoon next to the remote on the coffee table and he does the same. And then, Edward does something that surprises me: he places his arm around my shoulders. At this point, I can no longer distinguish where he and I stand; we cross the line but then go back over too often.

I can feel the coolness of his body pressed against mine, the electricity staticing through the air. I suddenly feel the urge to grip his hand and smooth back his untamed tresses of hair.

Ten minutes later, I finally decide to rest my head on his broad shoulder. He looks down at me, his green eyes bore deep into me and then, in a flash, his kisses me. He pulls away but it was enough to startle me that I shot upright.

"My apologies." He smiles. Before he can make some usual witty remark, I pull myself into his lap – to his surprise. His eyes go wide and I seductively place a finger onto his lips. After staring into his gorgeous eyes, I lean forward and replace my finger with my lips. The kiss is deep and passionate, a kiss that entails the things that I kept inside for eight years. I pour into him what was silent for so long, the words that went unsaid. I tangle my fingers into his thick, bronze hair and he emits a sigh before placing his hands on my waist. Then, I slowly bring my hands down to his shirt, attempting to un-do the buttons. Yet to my dismay, he brings his hands up to stop my own and pulls away from our kiss. I have to a blink a few times to regain myself but as I gaze onto him, his face is already composed.

"What?" I angrily demand.

"Just not tonight, Bella." He sighs. I'm furious – he and I have gone to that level before – eight years ago. He took something from me that I can never have back, a part of me, just as I took a part of him. And for the love of everything, the man is twenty-six years old. Surely he'd be willing to engage in such a thing…

"Why Edward?" I huff. He shakes his head and places a hand lightly on my back.

"Just listen to me." His eyes are blazing with an unnamed emotion and I cross my arms.

"I don't understand." I respond in a snappy tone. He smiles slightly.

"You're still as stubborn as always. Bella, please just understand. Not tonight is all I'm asking." He rubs light circles into my back and gazes at me with his emerald eyes. Defeated, I sigh loudly and slink off his lap.

"I hate you." I grumble with my arms still crossed.

"I love you too." He chuckles.

* * *

**Okay well I hope you guys liked it! Thanks for reading**

**Reviews make me smile and I recently just got Robert Pattinson's autograph!**

**Ahh, I love life at the moment. Well, deeming that Twilight is my life...**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	12. Indecisive Bastards

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV – 1 Month Before Trial**

"How's the kind-of-but-not-really-boyfriend?" Rose nonchalantly asks as she breezes into the apartment. I can hear the thud of her purse effortlessly hitting the table and the jingling of her keys mingling with my own in our key bowl.

"What?" I peek up from my novel. She glides over, takes a seat next to me and plucks the book my hands. After nosing around in it and flipping it in various directions, she hands it back to me and dramatically sighs.

"You're _such_ a geek," She says exasperated. "Haven't you read _Romeo and Juliet_ a thousand times?" Rose splays out lazily onto the sofa and props her long, slender legs onto my lap. She nestles her blonde head of hair into a throw pillow and closes her eyes.

"So?" I reply, miffed, yet I continue reading.

"It says two things about you." She mutters, her eyes still closed.

"What's that?" I mumble, distracted with my book.

"You're a nerd," She pauses. "And that it's your reincarnated life story." I flop the book down onto her legs and she opens her eyes. After giving her a pointed look I continue reading.

"My life story? You're insane." I roll my eyes.

"Well," She points out. "You love one another but you're doomed." I don't bother to look up this time, or ask whom she's talking about. We both know.

"That's rich." I state sourly.

"Why's that?" Rose gives me a smug look.

"Because we don't love each other, so therefore, how can we be doomed?"

"I believe you're suffering from dementia. Or is it schizophrenia?" She rebukes sarcastically.

"Hopefully not the latter." I continue reading.

"Do you wish you had dementia?" She teases.

"Potentially." I say bluntly.

"So then he's not your boyfriend." She stretches herself out on the sofa, and me.

"I never said he was, Rose." I try to block out images of Edward and his beauty through reading, but it's unsuccessful. The past few months have been… interesting. We're past a friendship but not quite at a relationship, something I'm not entirely content with.

"Talk to him about it." She throws her hands up into the air. This time, I look up from my reading.

"Have you met the guy?" I raise an eyebrow at her.

"Become his roommate and prove you're both ready for commitment." Rose twirls a strand of her platinum hair. I finally put my book down.

"Aren't you supposed to fall in love before you move in together? Plus, it's not commitment that's the problem. I'm almost certain it's exclusive. It's just… I don't even know to tell you the truth." I say the last part quieter than I'd have liked. Rose sits up this time and crosses her legs, Indian style.

"Move in with him." She looks at me with a strange expression.

"Why?" I scoff. "That's ridiculous. He' just a… friendly colleague."

"Oh, very _friendly_ if you'll ask me." She responds, rolling her eyes.

"Cute."

"Seriously consider someone and stop being stubborn." She hits me lightly with the pillow.

"Why?" I attempt to clumsily fend myself.

"The lease for the apartment is up in a month. And instead of renewing it…" She pauses and takes a deep breath. "I thought it would be better to live with Emmett. We're engaged now and we want to get a taste of what living together for the next eternity will be like." She laughs at the last part.

"Of course, Rose!" I smile at her and she leans over to hug me.

"You're okay with this?" She eyes me cautiously.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I tap the couch lightly.

"Can you afford all of this?" She gives me a doubtful look and I instinctively look around the interior of our apartment. It's quite modern and spacious, residing in an upscale part of town; far too much to upkeep for a lone person with my income.

"Oh." I say meekly.

"That's right, Bell," She pats my knee. "So move in with Romeo. Make him breakfast and please him every few nights or so in exchange for housing." She jokes and I hit her with a pillow after turning a thousand shades of red.

"You are _so_ crass, Rosalie." I chide her in a sour tone. She laughs freely at this and nestles comfortably back into the arm of the sofa.

"It's Emmett. He's rubbing off on me." She shrugs in a joking manner and I scowl at her, my cheeks are still red.

"Yeah, well," I roll my eyes. "Thanks to both of you, I have to go roommate hunting now."

"I'd offer you to live with us but that'd just be like him moving in here. Or, you can live with Alice, unless you want to be an invader in their three-way bliss-fest. Plus, they're house hunting with the baby coming along." I scoff at her.

"Like I'd think of moving in with them. I'd be a permanent Barbie Nanny." Rose laughs at this and flips over onto her stomach and sighs.

"You have a month, don't worry about it. Can you step on my back for me? Emmett always cracks it too hard." I sigh as well and stand up on the sofa, my feet sinking into the cushion. After cracking Rose's back for her, I attempt to hop down onto the floor. However, I manage to fall flat on my face with my beautiful grace and agility. Her laughter rings through the apartment for a good five minutes.

"Be quiet." I mutter while sitting back on the loveseat with a pack of ice.

"You really do need a roommate. Or you'll kill yourself." She's still laughing.

…………

After Rose left to go on a date with Emmett, I'm left to ponder about my potential future roommate. It's true that the apartment is far too expensive for only me to continue renting, yet I can't imagine living with anyone else. After moving out of Charlie's house following graduation, I was miraculously and luckily handed a single dorm at Yale. And ever since I got my degree and was spit back out into the real world, Rose has been my roommate…. For _years_, actually. Of course I wouldn't intrude on her newfound happiness, yet this leaves me in an annoying situation. My mind begins to wonder what moving in with Edward would be like…

While I'm absentmindedly thinking, I finally realize that I'm still in my pajamas; I've done absolutely nothing all day. It's about an hour before twilight before I decide to throw on a pair of jeans and a cream blouse. After grabbing my keys and purse, I'm sitting behind the wheel of my car. With no idea on where to go or what to do, I start up the engine and see where I'll end up.

I end up in front of the Black residence. Stalling the car purely because this visit is unnecessary, I lightly drum my fingers against the steering wheel and peer up at the two-story house. What was I doing here? I half expect Rebecca Black to tear out of the house, a bludgeon in hand, yet another minute of silence passes and then I cut the engine. Silence. Out of fatigue and uncertainty, I close my eyes and rest my head against the back of my seat. However, not even a second later I hear a sharp knock against my driver's window. Jolting up, I turn my head to see Jacob Black devilishly grinning at me. After rolling the window down, I still keep my seatbelt buckled.

"Hello Jacob." I greet him.

"Hey," He grins. "Come to see me?" I smile slightly and then shake my head.

"Is Elizabeth here?" I ask politely. He shrugs.

"I actually think you came to see me, but you're playing coy." He grins and waggles his eyebrows. I blush a crimson shade.

"How would you know this?" I scoff, yet I'm still red.

"You're wearing casual clothing. You're not dressed up in one of those obnoxiously and tragically long skirts. You know, those knee-length ones. Since you're not in work attire I think you're inadvertently telling me that you want to go out tonight." He beams and pops his head into my car, his hands clamped on the window. I take intricate note of his face, deeming that it is a mere foot away from mine. His tanned complexion seeps around his large, brown eyes – which are lovely, yet they are caked by haggard lines. Tired, tainted eyes which have seen too much to sparkle anymore. His dark brown, almost-black, hair matted his head, sticking this way and that. Blatantly unkempt, and I immediately think of the bronze head of hair that I've come to pathetically adore.

"I could be your mother." I can't help but smile.

"Yeah, if you gave birth to me when you were eight." This causes me to laugh for a moment but then shake my head.

"I'm sorry, Jacob. I bet you know plenty of girls." I joke and then adjust my rearview mirror out of discomfort.

"Elizabeth is inside." He finally says apathetically and retracts his head from my car. I smile at him and then unbuckle my seatbelt. After closing my car door, I follow the tall teenager sauntering into his family's foyer.

"Well," He stops and turns to me, far too close to me. His hand is clutching the frame of the door. "You know where to find me." He unleashes a large smile and winks. I blush in response and dodge him in the doorway, entering myself into the Black home.

The atmosphere of the home is familial warmth and unity – a stark contrast and contradiction to the family themselves. The front door immediately leads right into the den, and I take note of the cheery blue the striped sofa is. To my left, I can make out a dining room. A bit uncomfortable, I amble over to the striped sofa and attempt to take an inconspicuous seat. But thanks to my impeccable grace, the springs creak loudly and I internally wince in repercussion.

"Hi Bella." Elizabeth pops her head around the corner.

"Hello Elizabeth." I smile at her and sit up straighter, trying to compensate for my attire with my posture.

"So what's up?" She asks and begins to walk toward me. Today, her light brown hair is pulled up high into a ponytail, a hairstyle that compliments her large, blue eyes.

"I was just… checking up on you." I struggle to find the words and bite my lip.

"Well I'm fine. I think." She furrows her brow and takes a seat next to me on the sofa. I smile at this and fiddle with the zipper on my purse.

"So where's the rest of your family?" I ask her. I'm growing more comfortable now. She shrugs.

"Take a guess." I blush slightly and smile apologetically.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I say in a small voice.

"It's alright," She shrugs nonchalantly. "Want to go out or something? It's so lonesome here." There's a hole in her jeans at her knee and she begins pulling at the threads.

"Sure," I respond, somewhat surprised. "Where would you like to go?" It's around twilight now and I rack my brain for things to do at night.

She smiles. "I'm so happy someone finally asked me what I want."

…………

We end up at the mall. Elizabeth and I are sitting at a small table in the food court, she's sipping from a large, red slushie. My purse is on the table, covering some sort of advertisement. Next to Elizabeth is a small, plastic bag, encasing a small trinket I bought for her after she'd been eyeing it for too long. Sitting in comfortable silence, we resort to a silently amusing game of people watching.

"How many piercings do you think he has?" Elizabeth asks me as we're both watching a pale, lanky teenager who has more holes in him than Swiss cheese.

"Twenty?" I presume but she shakes her head. He's dressed in all black and I immediately want to know why.

"No, probably more. Look, he has them on his eyebrow too. Maybe even his tongue." I make a slight face and she laughs.

"I'd be too scared." I admit. I can smell the wafting scent of fast food seeping into our vicinity.

"To do what?" She stops sipping her slushie to look up at me.

"To get that many piercings." I absentmindedly flop my purse around.

"Because you're afraid it'll hurt or because you're afraid of being judged?" There is plethora of people milling around the food court, carrying trays and trying to find a place to sit.

"I'm not sure." I admit. I focus on a young couple lovingly holding hands and laughing in blissful unison.

"Why?" Elizabeth further probes. A woman now tugs at the hands of her two small children.

I shrug. "In high school," I begin and hone in on a pretzel stand with flashing bulb lights. "I just tried to blend in. I never really wanted to stand out."

"I know what you mean. I like being invisible too." The slurping of her slushie finally ceases, indicating she's finished. I merely nod in response and we fall into a comfortable silence once again.

"Are you going to be ready in a month?" I ask her while we now eye a woman dressed in the colors of the rainbow, carting around ten different shopping bags.

"For trial? I guess." She props her elbows up onto the table.

"Your mother continues to say you want to drop it." I sigh and tap the table.

"I still want to do it." She says adamantly. I don't probe any further.

"Have you talked to Edward?" I ask.

"Sometimes. He doesn't visit me like you do but he calls once in awhile." She plays with the straw in her cup. Her response surprises me, purely because I was on the assumptive note that he had no contact with Elizabeth outside the office.

"That's… nice." I manage, still in shock. She nods.

"He's really nice, actually. At first he wasn't, but he's gotten warmer." She nonchalantly blabs, oblivious to this incredible epiphany. I look up and see a young woman carrying a plethora of bags, her apparent boyfriend in tow. I immediately smile and think of Alice.

"Why are you smiling?" She asks, assuming I'm thinking of Edward. "You think he's cute, don't you!" She grins and I furiously blush.

"No, I'm thinking of my best friend." I'm still crimson.

"What's her name?" Elizabeth asks like any normal teenager would.

"Alice. She just got married last month." I smile and so does she.

"That's great. Tell her congratulations… How was the wedding?" Obviously mature for her age, I'm about to respond to Elizabeth when the only thing that enters my mind regarding Alice's wedding day are the moments with Edward. I blush slightly reminiscing, but internally sigh in bliss. After that passes I immediately become irritated at my current stance with him.

"Great. Your lawyer was there too." I respond.

"Why? I mean I guess he's famous and all." I laugh and shake my head.

"Alice is his sister." I undo the zipper of my purse. Her face lights up.

"That makes so much sense!" She exclaims. "It's like you two knew each other from before. Oh wow, that must have been so weird." _Very weird_, I think. Also adding to the notion that he's the love of my life and we have immense emotional baggage together.

"I guess," I smile. "We've known each other for a long time."

"Maybe you'll fall in love after all these years. Like in the movies, you know?" I blush again and focus on the people passing by.

"I don't think that'll happen."

"I think it will. I'll be there to see it, I promise you that." Elizabeth beams at me. I look at this girl, a girl I've only known for a few months – five or six – and realize that she already has me figured out. Elizabeth Black has the extraordinary skill of decoding people, and she doesn't even have herself figured out. Maybe, it's a gift meant to compensate for her possibly never being able to find out who she is.

**EPOV**

My life is purgatory. That is the simplest, bluntest way I can put it. Bleak, apathetic minutes tick by, marking the passing of time and the aging I undergo. However, no growth affects me, I'm placed in neutral; not being able to turn back time and not being able to move forward with my life. The reason why is also pure and simple: Bella. Had I known she would ruin my life, I would have thought twice about making the biggest mistake of my life.

I suppose that cliché remark about never realizing what you have until it's gone is the thesis of my existence at the moment. I'm lying on my sofa, the lights dimmed and my dinner of classy pork fried rice is displayed in front of me on my coffee table. Sam is splayed lazily on the floor, his eyes following the movement of the television screen. After thoughtfully chewing a mouthful and focusing on the sitcom, I swallow heartily.

"Should I?" I ask my dog. Christ. His head perks up and he stares knowingly at me. I shrug in response and he whines.

"No?" Sam whines again. I give him a look and throw my plastic fork onto my plate before snatching up my cell phone. After dialing the number imprinted into my brain, I await.

"Hello?" She answers.

"Good evening, Bella." I reply in a warm tone.

"Hi… Edward." She manages after a short intake of breath. I chuckle.

"I was wondering if you would like to spend some time with me tonight." I attempt and my heart quickens at the thought.

"Okay," I can hear a smile in her voice, something that makes me smile as well. "At what time?"

I look down at Sam. "Now would be fantastic."

After she hangs up, I bring my dishes into the kitchen. After throwing the plastic out and rinsing my plate, I sigh heavily and lean my back against the white marble counter in anticipation.

Fifteen minutes later, there's a knock at my door. I don't bother to peer through the eyehole, but rather, open the door in a swift manner to reveal Bella. She's wearing a breathtaking outfit consisting of dark blue jeans and a cream blouse – one that compliments her pallid complexion.

"Come in," I greet. "You look beautiful." She blushes a glorious shade of red and takes an introverted step into my apartment.

"Thanks." She smiles politely. Bella walks in deeper into my residence and clumsily places her purse onto my coffee table, her purse replacing my meal. She takes a seat and I glide over, taking one next to her.

"Have you eaten?" I ask. She turns her head to look at me. Bella's large, brown eyes blink once, and I'm immediately unaware of her response. The depth of her eyes sucks me and my interest in, and after a moment, she breaks out into a beautiful smile.

"What are you staring at, Edward?" She teases.

"You." I say nonchalantly. Her cheeks go hot and I can't suppress a chuckle. It's quiet for a moment before she lifts her hand up and surprisingly, takes my own in her delicate fingers. I intertwine her frail fingers within my own and squeeze her hand gently. She looks down for a second and then brings her eyes to meet mine.

"We need to talk." She bites her lip.

"I know." I admit. It's quiet for a moment, but then she speaks.

"Why?" She asks with sadness in her eyes. I understand what she's referring to. I understand, but I don't have an answer that I can tell her. I shake my head and focus on the glass which composes of my coffee table.

"It's not that easy." I gently stroke her hand with my thumb. Bella averts her gaze from me to Sam.

"I thought you loved me." She nearly whispers and I can feel her grip on my hand slackening. I grip it tighter.

"I still do." I say quietly.

"Stop toying around with my feelings," She shakily intakes a deep breath. "This past month, you've been all over the place. You decide you love me one day and the next, I'm some _thing_ to you." She says in a hard voice. The severity of her tone causes me to lift my head to meet her eyes. They're glazed over in anger and tears. I take a deep breath and plunge headfirst into the pit of my demise.

"I have been, and I'm sincerely sorry, Bella," I say in a soft voice. "You deserve so much better, so much braver, so much kinder, any adjective pertaining to positive connotations. These past months I've been a coward – no. No, these past eight years I've been a coward. I'm nothing. On that day, graduation, my life ended. I watched the walls of my life crumble around me and I decided to stay buried underneath the ash. _Eight years_. I let no one help me; I couldn't even help myself. And what I'm trying to convey to you, Bella, is that I'm madly in love with you. I always have been." I gaze at her, her hand still in my own. The composure in her angelic face finally breaks down.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" She exclaims. She retracts her hand and sniffles. "You know what, you are a coward. You broke my heart, tread on the pieces and think that eight years later, you can piece it back together by sitting me down and telling me what you did was wrong? You have no idea, Edward. You made my life hell." She seethes and each word is an individual slap to the face. I have the urge to get up and walk away, something I've resorted to the past years, but I reprimand my personal demons and lock myself in place.

"There are no words to which can describe how sorry I am. I am so sorry that I've affected your life so heavily and negatively. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt you, and obviously I failed miserably. But there is no plausible way that you went through what I went through. My life was a hell; it _is_ a hell. I live my days off work and breathing – what is that? That's nothing. You were, _are_, the love of my life and I let you go. I love you so much, and that is the reason we can't be together." I say, staring into her eyes. I'm radiating vulnerability, my eyes pleading with her. She buries her face into her hands and I place a hand gently onto her knee.

"What," She muffles into her hands. She lifts her head to look at me, her chocolate brown eyes are surrounded by the red of her irises. "Are you talking about? This is exactly what I mean, Edward. Saying that you love me and then throwing in some cryptic curveball about it being the barrier between us being together. Why can't we be together?" She grits her teeth and brings her knees to her chest. My hand is still on her.

"I wish I could tell you," I say quietly. "You have no idea, Bella. I wish but I can't tell you. It's difficult to grasp, and yes, it seems cryptic, but the reason we can't move forward together is because I care too deeply for you." I gaze longingly at her and she looks away.

"Is that it?" She spits, her eyes narrowing. "Commitment? You want to see other people? I should have known you were full of crap." She buries her face again and I run soothing circles into the side of her knee with my thumb.

"It's not commitment. I look at no other woman but you. You are my life, Bella. If you knew the truth, you wouldn't want to be with me anyway. Even if we tried, it wouldn't work. I'm holding you back from your life." I scoot closer to her and look down at her quivering shoulders. She lifts her face again, now tear-streaked, and I have to resist smoothing the tears away.

"Tell me the truth." She says quietly. I silently wipe the tears from her cheeks with my thumbs, and instead of rejection, she closes her eyes and sighs.

"You can't know." I rest my hands at the base of her neck.

"Then we can't be together." She responds with her eyes closed.

"I know. Maybe one day you'll find out and it will make sense to you then. I love you so much, Bella. Too much." I sigh. Her eyes open and her eyelashes are caked in tears.

"How much is too much?" She asks quietly.

"I don't have an answer for that either." I look down at the white of the sofa.

"You don't have very many answers." She says somewhat venomously.

"I love you," I respond. "I'm so sorry. Eight years of your life have been wasted on me, and for that, I cannot put into words how sorry I am."

"Better to have loved than not at all, right?" She sighs morosely and begins to sit up straighter. I smooth my hands down her long, mahogany hair.

"I hate myself for this. I need you to know that there's a part of me that needs you to be with me. I want to be with you forever, but the other part is telling me that it's wrong. I'm trying to do the right thing for both of us, even if it seems wrong at the moment. Do you see this, Bella? This is my life. I have an angel on my left shoulder and a demon on my right, both fighting over the outcome of my heart. It's a lose-lose situation." I copy her position and bring my knees to my chest. I bury my face into my knees and sigh deeply.

"Edward," She places a hand onto my arm. "Don't hate yourself."

"How can't I?" I respond, muffled.

"You're too good to hate yourself." She murmurs and I raise my head to meet her eyes.

"I don't deserve anything less. You know it too," I sigh deeply. "Thank you for being my best friend, for helping me grow up. Although I wouldn't exactly call this grown up, you've done a pretty damn good job with me. I'll always love you and that's the part that's killing me right now." At the last part, I nearly lose my composure and immediately hide my face into the peak of my knees. I groan in agony and her hands are suddenly on my shoulders.

"Edward, stop. It's okay," She soothes in a quiet voice and I lift my head up again. She kisses me softly on the cheek and a tear rolls down for the corner of her eye. I gently kiss it away; I can taste the salt and moisture on my lips.

"I'm killing myself." I say in a hoarse voice.

"You're killing me too." But she smiles when she says this. She wraps her arms around me and rests her head on my shoulder. I lock my arms around her waist and pull her into me.

"I don't want to hurt you." I murmur into her hair. She sighs into my chest.

"Rose was right." She says. I begin to smooth her hair.

"What?" I ask.

"She said we're doomed." I can hear the smile in her voice and I smile slightly.

"Well, I love you." I say simply and softly.

"And I love you." She sighs and snuggles into my chest. I instinctively wrap my arms tighter around her. I lay my head on top of hers and cradle her.

"I'm sorry." I repeat, closing my eyes.

"At least the past eight years didn't go unrequited in love," She murmurs. "I'm sorry too."

"For what?" I ask gently.

"For doing what ever made you leave me." She says in a strange tone. This causes me to open my eyes and look down at her. She looks up at me with her clear, brown eyes, unfortunately puffy from crying.

"You did nothing. It had nothing to do with you. Please don't think that, please, Bells." She and I both freeze at the use of her old nickname. I have no idea what to make of the plausible repercussions, but then she scoots her body closer to mine. Her grasp around my neck tightens and she hides her face into my shoulder. The shaking sobs that emit from her small body split my heart in two and I bury my face in her hair, holding her, never wanting to let go.

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**Okay it's finally up! Hopefully you guys like it - I'm not crazy about it.**

**Reviews and all that jazz are lovely, and again, I'm SO sorry for updating this late.**

**I'm usually alot better about it and the next chapter will be up super soon.**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	13. I Sold My Soul To the Devil

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV – Day 1**

I wake up at eight in the morning. Groggily rolling onto my side and hauling myself out of bed, I glide into my bathroom. After showering, I dress myself accordingly. I don a black Armani suit, straighten out the jacket, attempt to comb my untamed hair and sigh heavily.

Today is going to be a day that will test all of our limits, a day that will undoubtedly go down in history. Headlines will swarm over the story of the stem cell child suing her own parents for medical emancipation. This will make national news. I sigh again at the thought: the press and media hounds would await us all outside the courthouse, attacking and swallowing us within their sea of questions and microphones. Nearly a year ago, this would have pleased me, yet now, it's merely an irksome thorn in the back of my thoughts.

I enter my silver Volvo, Sam hops into the passenger seat and I accelerate toward the outskirts of the city. In suburbia, I park my car neatly into the driveway of the Black residence. After readjusting my rearview mirror and jacket, I open the door and take long strides toward the front doorstep. My client and my responsibility, Elizabeth would not be riding with her mother today – for blatant reasons. Opposing Counsel resides under the same roof, and I was anticipating a long talk with my client in the car ride regarding just that. After a final sigh and a long look at Sam, I ring the doorbell.

No answer. I ring it again and add a short knock afterward. I pause in anticipation and there is still no answer. I pinch the bridge of my nose and groan inwardly, we're going to be late for court.

…………

The shades are drawn in the hospital room as I glide in. I see Leah Black, her eyes closed in a peaceful aura of serenity. I see the tubes protruding from her body, her hauntingly angelic face pale and alight from the dimmed lights of the hospital equipment. Although the room is dim, it does not prevent me from spotting Elizabeth curled up at the foot of her sister's bed and Jacob Black sitting in a chair. His arms are crossed and he looks up at me.

"Hey." He greets.

"Jacob," I give him one nod. I then turn to Elizabeth. Her eyes are open, yet she's in a lucid trance. Her body is folded into itself while she traces imaginary circles on the leg of her dormant sister. I crouch down so my eyes are level to hers. "Elizabeth," I say softly. "We're due in court." Her eyes are still open, but she doesn't look at me. After a moment, I turn to Jacob in frustration. "Do you need a ride to the courthouse?" I ask, anticipating. He shakes his head.

"I figured I'd stay here with her. Everyone else is going to be there, and besides, she looks terrible." His eyes are locked on Leah.

"What did you expect," Elizabeth says, finally stirring and slowly sitting upright. "She's dying." She finally meets my gaze. I stare at my client for almost too long and attempt to let no emotion flicker over my face.

"It's time to go." I say solidly and hold my hand out.

…………

While we're driving in the car, Elizabeth proceeds to tell me about some absurd story regarding vampirism. When I deliberately miss the turn for the courthouse, she stops mid-sentence to stare at me.

"If I'm not mistaken, unless you cut the first day of law school, Edward, it's usually customary to show up on time for court." I can feel her gaze on me but I'm still looking ahead. I parallel park on the road and stall my Volvo.

"We're already late." I say. My hands are still on the wheel.

"What are you doing?" She asks calmly. I turn in my seat to look at her.

"Why are we going to court, Elizabeth?" I ask her in a neutral tone. She scratches the crown of her head.

"It's usually what happens when you file a lawsuit." She rebukes sarcastically. I sit up straighter, refusing to be bested by her.

"Tell me why we're going to court." I repeat. She blinks once and then crosses her arms.

"Tell me why you have a service dog." She narrows her eyes.

I sigh heavily and tap the steering wheel. "I'm deaf in one ear," I say slowly. "Sam got trained to aid me in tough circumstances. I've never told anyone this… but I hate when people pity me, I can't handle it," I look at her. "Why are we going to court, Elizabeth?" It's quiet for a moment before she responds.

"I'm tired of it being all about Leah," She chooses her words carefully. "I want it to be about me for once." Her selfish confession fits completely out of place; this lawsuit was never about her wanting Leah to die, it was about Elizabeth wanting to live.

"You're lying." I say coolly.

"You lied first." She cracks a smile. I can't suppress a laugh.

"You remind me of myself." I shake my head, a smile still on my face.

"Oh no, that's bad." She jokes.

"Let's go," I start the car up. "The hoards are waiting for us."

…………

When we reach the courthouse for the hearing, we have to fight our way through the sea of reporters. They shove microphones and tape recorders in our faces, stepping on Sam's paws in the process. His whines are drowned out by the yelling and chaos of the media coverage, and before I can reach the first step, I'm bumped in to.

"Mr. Cullen! Mr. Cullen!" A reporter shouts in my face. "Is it true the client you're representing is filing a litigation for medical emancipation?" His microphone is shoved in front of my nose and I icily ignore his exclaims. Elizabeth has made it to the door and I'm attempting to trudge my way through the barricade of people.

"Mr. Cullen, do you understand the significance of this hearing?" A female reporter attempts to walk in step with me. Again, I grit my teeth and ignore her – something all attorneys learn in law school.

"Edward Cullen, considered one of the top attorneys on the West Coast is said to be representing…" I hear a snippet of a news anchor reporting into a camera. I have to suppress an eye roll and I'm a mere couple of feet from reuniting with Elizabeth when yet another reporter attempts an interview with me.

"Mr. Cullen is said to be a pit bull in court, absolutely lethal and merciless," He says speedily into the camera and then turns to me. "Sir, do you think that you will lower your aggression deeming the circumstances of this particular trial?" He asks hastily and I take the time to think while I'm walking. I'd been told I'm aggressive in court – I rarely lose a case.

"No comment." I mutter and then finally make it to the door.

…………

Judge Weber eyes the three of us warily as we enter; we're late. Not yet in the courtroom, we're in his chambers for the pretrial meeting. After a white lie regarding our excuse on timeliness, we all finally enter the courtroom. I take note of my comfortable domain: the paneled walls, the rows of chairs, and the imposing bench. Because this is family court, the room is noticeably smaller than a criminal court, but intimidating all the same.

As Elizabeth and I take our seats behind our respective table, I place my briefcase on the tabletop and Sam sits on the floor beside my chair. Elizabeth begins to fidget and I turn around to intake the number of attendees: around… well, quite a few. I face forward again and can feel the atmosphere of the room thickening.

"All rise." Judge Weber takes a seat. The entire room rises and he pounds his gavel, indicating for us to sit again.

Although I stand. "State your name, Counselor." He commands and I make my way around the table. I clasp my hands behind my back and pace back and forth; my first witness is opposing counsel.

"Edward Anthony Cullen," I nod at the Judge. I then turn to Rebecca Black sitting at the witness stand. "Before we begin, I'd like to say something. Your Honor," I look at Judge Weber and he nods, indicating for me to commence. "All her life, Elizabeth Black has been medically used and treated to prolong the life of her sister. No one doubts the love Rebecca Black has for her children, or the decisions she's made to increase the lifespan of Leah, but we're all here today to potentially doubt the decisions she has made for this child," I turn and point to Elizabeth. I can feel Bella watching me carefully. "This case is not about a kidney, but something more. Morality and ethics are two contradictory things, and we're here today to differentiate them from our system of justice. Hopefully we can all see a bit more clearly." I finish and unclasp my hands.

After my introduction, Rebecca Black is sworn in, but she does not break her gaze from Elizabeth.

"Your Honor, may I have your permission to treat Mrs. Black as a hostile witness?" I clasp my hands behind my back again. Judge Weber frowns at me.

"I will have this hearing be cordial, Mr. Cullen." He says curtly and eyes me warily.

"Understood, Judge." I nod and turn on my heels to look at Rebecca. "Can you state your name?" I walk toward her.

"Rebecca Claire Black." She doesn't blink.

"For the record, you are the biological mother of Elizabeth Black?" I ask. I glance briefly at the record-keeper briskly typing away.

"Yes. And of Leah and Jacob as well."

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but your daughter, Leah, was diagnosed with acute promyelocytic leukemia while she was age two?" Again, she doesn't blink.

"Yes."

"At the time, did you and your husband decide to conceive a child who would be medically and genetically programmed as a perfect organ donor, intent on prolonging the life of your eldest daughter?" At my words, she folds her hands.

"If you'd like to place the words into gritty context, yes. Her conception was originally meant to entail using the umbilical cord blood for a transplant."

"But she's donated more than once." I say, no emotion washing over my face. Her face hardens.

"Yes, that's right."

"How old was Elizabeth when she first donated?" I choose my words carefully and venomously – a tactic I'm intent on using.

"She was a few minutes old." She stares at me icily.

"So there was no consent?" It's a rhetorical question.

"No." She blinks once.

"And how old was she the next time she donated a body part to Leah?" As I expected, Rebecca winces at my choice of words.

"Five. She donated lymphocytes." I can hear the clacking of the keys from the record-keeper.

"What does this consist of?" I cross my arms.

"Drawing blood from the crease of her elbows." Rebecca lifts her chin a fraction of an inch.

"Was there consent?" I probe, my face emotionless.

"She was five." Her face hardens again.

"Did you ask Elizabeth if you could draw blood from her?" I repeat woodenly.

"I asked her to help her sister." She sighs. My attack does not mitigate.

"Is it true she had to be physically restrained in order to stick the needle in her arm?" I uncross my arms. She closes her eyes and reopens them, now set on her daughter.

"Yes."

"Is that voluntary consent?" I batter, and Rebecca Black begins to fidget. "What were the side affects?" I continue.

"Bruising and some tenderness." She recomposes herself.

"And how much later was it when you drew from her again?" I probe.

"A month."

"And what were the side affects of that?" I begin to pace again.

"The same." She doesn't blink this time.

"Did she have to get held down then, too?" I take a brief glance at Elizabeth and her eyes are saucers, witnessing the war between her mother and her lawyer.

"Yes, but – " I cut her off.

"And it is my understanding, Mrs. Black, that you drew blood from her a third time."

"It's not an exact procedure, that's how long it took." She says simply. I stop pacing and re-cross my arms.

"How old was Elizabeth the next time she had a procedure?"

"Well, when Leah was nine – " I cut her off again.

"That's not what I asked, Counselor. How old was _Elizabeth_?" I look at her and her body stiffens.

"Elizabeth was six when Leah got a raging infection. She donated granulocytes in a similar process to that of lymphocytes." She responds, ice cold.

"Another needle?" I ask the rhetorical question.

"Yes."

"Did you ask for consent?" I take a step toward her. The courtroom is silent as she doesn't respond; even the recorder stops his typing. Her eyes waver around the room.

"Mrs. Black?" Judge Weber prompts.

"Did you ask her?" I repeat, my voice harder. She brings her haggard eyes to meet mine.

"Please don't do this," She says. "We all know the medical history. I'd rather we get this part over fast, you crucifying me at the witness stand serves no significance." I ignore her plea.

"Was there consent?" I repeat. She studies my face and then responds.

"No."

"And what was the next donation?" I take another step toward the bench.

"Bone marrow." She responds woodenly.

"And what does that procedure entail?" I lift my chin up an inch.

"Drawing marrow from the crests of her hips." She doesn't blink.

"Does that require one needle?" I ask. I'm well aware of the medical history, yet I twist my questions into knives.

"No. It's about fifteen needles." She maintains her composure and stares hard at me.

"And the side effects?" I turn toward Elizabeth.

"She was hospitalized overnight for pain," Her mother says quietly. I open my mouth to slam the case home, but she beats me to it. "Look, I understand that I may not have focused as much on Elizabeth. That maybe I focused too much on Leah, but I do know that without a doubt, this entire family, including Elizabeth, wants nothing more than for her sister to be cured." She finishes and makes eye contact with me.

"Sure, so you could stop sticking needles in her." I say icily.

"Enough, Mr. Cullen." Judge Weber interrupts. He's trying to keep the trial civil.

"Wait, Your Honor. May I say something?" Rebecca asks him. He nods and she turns to me. "You think you can lay it all out in black and white. But you can't, Mr. Cullen. Because you only represent one of my daughters, and only in this courtroom. I represent _both _my daughters, everywhere, every place, equally. And I love them _both _everywhere, every place, equally. What does a person like you know about love?" Her words come as daggers as she stares at me. Her latter comment stings below the belt, although I do not lose composure.

"Cease, Counselor." Judge Weber demands sternly. Before he can speak again, I do first.

"Yet you've admitted to favoring one." I say unemotionally in a frighteningly venomous tone. Her face flickers for a moment. The Judge is about to pound his gavel.

"Maybe one day when you have children, you'll realize that you'd do everything and anything in your power to save your child." She reprimands in a haunting tone. I ignore her comment.

"You have more than one child, and yet you favor only one. You've lost your fight in saving your other children." I add an ounce of venom to every word I string together. A silence laced with ice falls amongst the room. I know I've crossed the line.

"Aren't you asking me to do the same thing? But to favor the other?" She asks rigidly, folding her hands. The room is hushed, all of us braced for the aftermath of the bomb.

…………

During the first recess, I'm sitting across from Elizabeth in a conference room. She's engrossed in the length of her fingernails and I drum my fingers against the table.

"So," I begin. "What do you think?" I anticipate her response. She looks at me with her large blue eyes and blinks.

"I'm not sure. It's not what I expected." She shrugs lightly.

"How do you mean?" I slightly raise my eyebrow.

"When you were up there asking my mom all those questions," She sighs. "I realized she was right. It's not that simple. I thought I was doing the right thing at first, but I can't answer if I'll be happy or guilty when I look back on this day." She shakes her head and I glance at Sam.

"Elizabeth," I stand up. "You can't change your mind now." I say, a tad irate.

"Do I have to stand up there and testify?" She changes the subject and stares at me. In a state of consternation, I knit my eyebrows together.

"Potentially." I respond bluntly and she shakes her head vigorously.

"That's what I hired you for," She spits angrily. "I don't want to go up there, up on that bench. That's what you're for, I don't have to testify." She's still shaking her head. Her stubborn quality reminds me of Bella. I sigh.

"You probably won't have to." I lie, attempting to ease her. At this, her shoulders relax and she closes her eyes.

"Okay." She half-sighs.

"Elizabeth," I repeat, getting up and walking toward her side of the table. "Now is not the ideal time to change your mind." I cross my arms and she opens her eyes.

"I'm not changing my mind," She shakes her head. "I'm just thinking about how if we win, we actually don't. It's lose-lose."

…………

My second witness is my father. I pace back and forth again as the man who raised me is sworn in. His straightens himself calmly and hardly blinks at our situation: father versus son. His blonde locks are swept back neatly, a hairstyle I've known as far back as I can remember.

_Dad_, I want to say. "Dr. Cullen," I clear my throat. He looks at me expectantly with his clear blue eyes. "You are the oncologist of Leah Black, correct?" The clacking of the recorder's keys commences.

"That is correct." He says fluidly without batting an eyelash.

"How long have you been her doctor?" I remember the first time he laid me in his lap and placed a bandage on a scraped knee I acquired.

"Fourteen years." Again, it's impossible to tell the man is breathing.

"Are you the doctor of Elizabeth Black as well?" I take a step toward him and smell his scent. It's the smell of my old home in Forks, the aroma of my parent's bedroom.

"No, I specialize in oncology." He doesn't break eye contact with me.

"What is oncology?" I clasp my hands behind my back, a habit I've picked up in court.

"The medical branch pertaining to cancer." He says, unmoved.

"All cancers, Doctor?" I probe my father further. Of course, I know this. At one point in my life, I wanted to follow in his footsteps by studying medicine. I'd been accepted into medical school, yet I attended law school.

"Yes," He nods. "I diagnose and assist palliative care to patients. Particularly those with leukemia." He says simply; something I already know.

"For the record, what is leukemia?" I ask the impractical question, purely for the knowledge of the record-keeper.

"Leukemia is a hematological neoplasm - a cancer of the blood. It composes of the abnormal proliferation of leukocytes, or white blood cells." His medical terminology does not faze me; I grew up with it.

"Doctor, what is the survival rate pertaining to leukemia?" The room is silent, they're all witnessing.

"It's dependent on the type. Acute myeloid leukemia has a survival rate of forty-percent with immediate treatment. Acute promyelocytic leukemia, Leah's condition, has a survival rate of twenty-percent, and that lowers with a failed ATRA treatment." He doesn't blink.

"What is ATRA?" I can hear the clacking of the recorder's keys.

"All-trans-retinoic acid. It's a therapy, which can induce complete remission, but if failed, causes complications. Unfortunately in Leah's case, the retinoid receptor failed to deter the white cell proliferation. Essentially, treatment could not prevent her white blood cells from multiplying too quickly."

"With the failed treatment, donations were then considered, correct?" I begin to pace again.

"Yes." He still has not broken eye contact with me.

"Were you aware of the truth behind Elizabeth Black's conception?"

"I was not." He doesn't even shake his head.

"What is Leah's current condition?" I ask bluntly.

"She's undergoing renal failure, a complication of arsenic therapy. To my knowledge, we're here regarding the option of a kidney." He states simply. I've never been able to best my father. I glance at Sam, Elizabeth, Bella and then the man who raised me.

"Do you receive patient complaints, Dr. Cullen?" Addressing him by his formal name comes unnaturally to me.

"Yes, on occasion." He responds.

"Have there been any from minors?" I begin my tactic.

"Consent is not necessary until age thirteen. We rely on parents to make the ideal choices for their children." He finally blinks.

"And if they don't?" I mitigate.

"Objection!" Rebecca Black rises from her seat angrily. "He's speculating." She points to me and Judge Weber waves her off.

"Sustained." He replies.

"Do parents control their children's medical decisions until age eighteen?" I continue. It's an absurd question, one that a small child could answer. Feeling a bit outlandish administering the question to my own father, I waver my eyes.

"Legally." My father replies. I remember when I was sixteen, he first taught me how to drive stick-shift. His calm persona was in the passenger seat, gazing at my hands on the wheel and calmly correcting my mistakes without batting an eyelash.

"What if there is a disagreement between the parent and child?" I probe. I remember the first time we disagreed on something. It was the day after graduation – about Bella. The memory stings caustically and I internally wince.

"In that instance, the patient must be adolescent. The situation is then weighed regarding the maturity and mental capacity of the patient, their best interests, the risks and the argument presented."

"In Leah Black's case, was her situation regarding an organ transplant reviewed?" The room is still silent.

"Yes."

"Can you explain more, Doctor?" I tilt my head slightly.

"The ethics committee was split. One side reasoned in her current condition, major invasive transplant surgery will most likely kill her," He pauses briefly. "The other argued that her health is to the point where a transplant happens to be the only option left."

"Who decides what ultimately happens?" I cross my arms.

"Her parents." My father replies.

"Are cases reviewed concerning the wellbeing of the donor?" I walk toward Elizabeth's table and back to the bench.

"It's irrelevant." I pause my pacing.

"Irrelevant? It is my understanding, Doctor, that no hospital will take an organ from a child without consent." I reprimand somewhat harshly.

"This is true," He agrees. "It is also true Elizabeth has had several invasive procedures." He admits. Rebecca shoots my father an icy look. Although I have never once bested my father, I can settle for his praise.

"Dr. Cullen, in your expert opinion, is it ethically correct to continue to allow Elizabeth to donate parts of her body, as she has done for the past thirteen years?" The courtroom winces at my choice of words, all except for my father. He doesn't flinch - he looks directly at me.

"I originally voted against the organ donation. I do no believe Leah will survive the operation, thus causing a preventable death and inducting potential complications on Elizabeth after major surgery." He says and the atmosphere goes thick.

"Yet you are willing to commence with an operation if an organ is obtained." I point out and implicate contradiction.

"This is my job, Mr. Cullen," I am momentarily dismayed at his use of my formal name. "I do not wish to choose who has more of a right to live or die. I do my job, and that is to save as many lives as possible." He says unemotionally and I remember the first time he scolded me. When I was five, I pushed Alice, an action of which caused her to cry. He sat me down gently, looked me straight in the eye and told me to never hurt anyone, especially the people I love.

…………

Rebecca Black gets her first turn at playing attorney. I take my respective seat, in between Elizabeth and Sam, at our table. My father is still at the witness stand and he sits in anticipation.

"Dr. Cullen, how long have you known my family?" Rebecca begins.

"Fourteen years." My father replies simply.

"As Leah Black's oncologist, have you put her donor in any grave medical danger through invasive procedures?" She takes a step toward him.

"No." He doesn't blink.

"Did you ever say any of the procedures would hurt Elizabeth considerably?" She probes.

"No."

"Dr. Cullen, it is my understanding you have children, correct?" She is referring to Alice and I, although the courtroom is well aware that the doctor happens to be my father. I feel peculiar, as she is referencing to me.

"That is correct." I detect my father flashing me a very brief glance.

"How many children do you have, Doctor?" I mask my face unemotionally.

"Two." Alice and I.

"Are they close in age?" She asks, and suddenly I wonder if she realizes.

"They're fraternal twins." My father responds dryly, finally breaking his emotionless streak. Rebecca's face goes red but she composes herself quickly.

"When collaborating with the ethics committee, have you ever made decisions based off placing yourself in the patient's shoes?" She crosses her arms and my father clears his throat.

"Yes. I have." He admits. I realize now that Rebecca Black is going to play dirty.

"If you were me," She paces and I force myself to maintain composure. "Would you jump at any chance to save your son?" She turns to look at me. "Or would you question it and walk away?" Silence. He doesn't answer. He doesn't have to.

…………

During the second recess, Elizabeth and I return to our previous conference room. It's around lunchtime and I buy her a sandwich. She chews quietly and I set a paper cup of water on the floor for Sam to lap up when Bella walks into the room. Albeit her typical black pencil skirt and white blouse, she looks stunning. My heartbeat quickens and she glances at me before setting her gaze on Elizabeth.

"Am I intruding?" She asks inwardly, yet Elizabeth shakes her head and beckons for her to sit. After she swallows another bite of her meal, she turns to me.

"Can I go walk Sam?" She asks, eyeing my dog.

"There are still reporters outside, you'll get mauled." I refute.

"I'll walk him down the hall then." She begins to get up but I continue.

"Service dogs are walked by their owners." I give her a pointed look. She shrugs.

"Then I'm going to go pee." She shifts her glance from me to Bella and then stands up and closes the door behind her. After a moment I prop my elbows onto the tabletop and gaze at Bella's beauty.

"She left us alone on purpose." I say incredulously. She nods.

"She's incredibly smart. She's very good at reading people." Bella agrees and I merely blink in response.

"You look lovely." I smile slightly at her and she blushes furiously.

"Thank you." She replies and I reach across the table to take her hand gently. I look at the lines in her alabaster palm and meet with her eyes once again.

"I don't like you seeing me at work." I half joke. She smiles and shakes her head.

"Why is that?"

"It's hard proof that I have no soul." I half-smile and she laughs.

"Who said you have a soul outside your job?" She jokes and I dramatically place a hand over my heart.

"Oh Bella, that hurt." I pretend to pout and she squeezes my hand.

"Come on, hotshot. Do you what you do best." She gives me a dazzling smile and gets up. For the first time, she leaves me.

* * *

**Well, there you go. First day of the trial! There's hardly and Edward/Bella and I apologize.**

**Then again, it's difficult to incorporate that within the first day. There'll be a ton more in the following days, though**

**Thanks for reading! **

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	14. You Asked What My Dog Does?

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

After tossing and turning all night from a restless sleep, I finally crack my eyes open. I glance briefly at my clock, which reads 6:55 AM. No longer preoccupied with attempting to go back to sleep, I roll out of bed and amble my way into the den. It's breaking dawn and the beauty of infused pink and orange swirl amongst the horizon through the den's large windows. Streams of sunlight begin to permeate the room, casting a buttery striped pattern across the wooden floors. I sigh contentedly, flop on the sofa and turn on the television. After flicking through a few channels, I settle for a news station.

"Wake up, Seattle," A cheery, blonde news anchor quips into the camera. "It's 7 AM at West Coast 8 News and we're here to help get the coffee flowing." The prosthetic smile and excess mascara do a wondrous combination of masking her fatigue. Birds chirp outside, an indication of the early morning and I stretch lazily. Rose is still asleep, she doesn't share my enthusiasm for mornings.

"Good morning folks," The male anchor shuffles his papers around and smiles. "Last night, a…" His reporting begins to drone into a consistent buzz, and I get up from the sofa. Leaving the television on, I venture into the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. Today was going to be another long and grueling day at court.

As the black liquid drips slowly through the filter, I drum my fingertips against the countertop in anticipation. The dripping is the only noise that breaks the silence and I sigh heavily. Purely out of boredom, I waver my eyes to the LCD screen through the kitchen's open doorway. The pixels flicker for a moment – a change in pictures. To my disbelief, I see a sketch of the man I happen to be in love with on regional television. I nearly trip in the process of sprinting over toward the den, but after I reassemble myself I hastily turn up the volume and sit myself down.

"…Edward Cullen, a renowned Seattle-based attorney, is representing a minor in _Jane Doe v. Black_…" The female anchor drones on and I peer closely at the courtroom sketch. Due to the fact the press and cameras are not allowed in the courtroom, a sketch artist is obligated to record events.

A colorful sketch is enlarged on my television. Edward, in two-dimensional form, has his arms crossed. His suit has been shaded a deep black and to my secret delight and indulgence, his wild, bronze locks are illustrated perfectly. Swept up and shaded a reddish-brown, his hair sits on top of his pale head. Two specks of green compose of his beautiful emerald eyes, yet his facial composure is twisted into a menacing glower. On the receiving end of this glower is Rebecca Black, who is illustrated to have her face exposing immense uncertainty. Her eyes meet the floor while Judge Weber and the bench are lightly sketched into the background.

"…Day two of trial commences in a few hours…" I pick up a snippet of the report and speculate that the number of journalists waiting outside the courthouse today will double.

"Is he as ruthless as he looks in court?" I hear a voice behind me. I jump in shock and quickly turn to find Rose with her hair in a messy up-do and her arms crossed. Still in her camisole and pajama shorts, her left hip is jutted out and she taps her foot absentmindedly.

"He's worse," I raise my eyebrows. "How are you awake?" My roommate usually arises at around noontime. She closes her eyes, yawns and then slowly maneuvers around the sofa to sit next to me.

"A combination of the volume and the noise you made from almost knocking the lamp over." She yawns again and apathetically nods toward the table lamp – the one I nearly shattered while rushing to see the sketch. I turn red and mute the television.

"Sorry." I say meekly and she leans back into the sofa. Her platinum head sinks into the cushion and she closes her eyes.

"How was it?" She mutters. She's referring to the trial.

"Intimidating," I admit. "Edward is… brutal." I finally find the appropriate word. A smile creeps up onto her lips.

"You knew that before, though." She says in a bored tone.

"True, but he's just so… coldhearted. It's a bit unsettling." I admit. She opens her blue eyes and gazes at me.

"He's an attorney, Bella. They're all coldhearted, it's their job." She blinks and I shrug.

"It was weird. Watching him and his father, I mean." I bite my lip and Rose shrugs.

"He's paid to rip up whoever he wants." I shake my head in response.

"No, he went easy on his dad." I finally say in disbelief. Rose looks at me for a moment and blinks twice.

"He's changing." She says simply.

"No," I shake my head. "He's trying."

…………

After fending off the hoards of aggressive reporters, I finally make my way inside the courthouse. I breathe in relief and close my eyes for a moment. Not even a second later, the pitter-pattering of Sam makes my eyes reopen. He comes around the corner, his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. When he reaches me I'm concerned – where is his owner? A moment later, he latches onto the hem of my pencil skirt and tugs for me to follow him.

As we round the corner, I can begin to hear the strained voice of his owner. Trying not to raise his voice, Edward is obviously irate about something. Sam and I reach the conference room Edward and Elizabeth are both in and I silently enter myself. Obviously intruding in on a heated argument, his hands are raised in the air and anger seeps from his composure. Elizabeth stands opposite from him, her arms crossed as she's glaring at him.

"…I'm wasting time and manpower, Elizabeth. You drag me into this case and you still don't even know what you want. _Make_ up your mind." He seethes.

"You lied. You said I didn't have to testify!" She yells at him and her crossed arms tighten in fury.

"Of course I lied. What did you expect? They want to hear what you have to say." He growls and she tightens her mouth into a straight line.

"I hired you because I thought you could help save me, but you can't even save yourself," She rebukes and shoves past him, her shoulder hitting his stone arm. "Asshole." She mutters. After she huffs past him, she then slinks past me and slams the door. He turns around and sees me, but before he can open his mouth Sam begins to bark maniacally. He jumps onto Edward's torso and begins to paw at him.

"Get down!" Edward orders his dog in a fuming tone. After Sam obeys, Edward straightens his suit out and sighs.

He sighs again and sits heavily into a chair. "She refuses to testify." He shakes his head and I take a step toward him.

"Of course not. She can barely speak to her mother within their own home, how do you expect she'll do in a cross-exam?" I raise an eyebrow at him. He closes his eyes and I take a seat across from him. It's silent for a moment.

"What are you going to tell Weber?" He opens his eyes, and for a moment, I'm dazzled by them. After recomposing myself, I blink a few times and then shake my head angrily; he's asking me to cheat for his case's benefit.

"What is this case about, Edward?" He crosses his arms and I gaze into his green eyes.

"Elizabeth." He responds bluntly and pointedly.

"Or is it about you?" I respond sourly. His face turns to stone and I grow a bit unsettled.

"Why don't you just ruin my case like you were planning on, Bella?" He doesn't blink.

"This isn't your case. It's Elizabeth's." I say simply. He doesn't blink.

"I know that." He says venomously and I decide… I decide that I've kept quiet for too long.

"You know what, Edward? That's your problem. You think you know everything, but outside a courtroom you don't know anything. I don't know what happened to you all those years ago, but what made you you died. You buried your own grave, and up came this new, apathetic _prick._ Lately, the old you has been trying to resurface, but you have too many demons to let it break through. I don't know what's your deal, Edward, but I need to quit you. Sure, it's okay that Elizabeth is just a client, but the moment she becomes someone you care about you push her away. Me? The minute that you fall in love with me, you break my heart and then commit personality suicide. Everytime the old you resurfaces, everytime we have a moment, you run away. You're a coward. That's okay though, I'll be sure to tell everyone what a jerk you are because I'm the only one qualified to dub you as one. It's disappointing that someone can see right through you, isn't it?"

I'm trembling. He looks as if I've slapped him across the face, but a nanosecond later it washes off. I turn around quickly so he can't see the tears forming in my eyes.

"Bella," He begins but I start to walk away. "The dog. He's –" Before I can turn around and meet his gaze, the public community sheriff walks in.

"You need to testify now, Ms. Swan." He looks from me to Edward.

…………

I take my spot at the witness stand and gaze forlornly at Edward. He's shuffling his note cards at his table and mutters something under his breath – however, it's incoherent. After a moment, he does something surprisingly spontaneous and tosses his notes. I catch Elizabeth shooting him a petulant, sideways glare, and then we commence.

"Can you state your name?" He takes a few steps toward me. His eyes are glazed over.

"Isabella Marie Swan." I respond but bite my lip out of nervous habit.

"Bel-" But he stops short and clears his throat. "Ms. Swan," He corrects himself. "For the record, what is a guardian ad litem?" He blinks once and I can detect his hands are trembling slightly. I blink a few times and look into the crowd.

"A court appointed individual trained to work with children in family court. Ultimately, they decide what is in the child's best interests regarding a trial." I bite my lip again and wait for him to rip me to pieces. He takes a few more steps toward me and stops a foot away from the bench.

"As a guardian ad litem, what are your recommendations regarding the case, Be- Ms. Swan." He's slipped twice in under a few minutes – something rare. I finally gaze at him and his green eyes are soft.

I remember when I spent those two weeks in his summer home. Two weeks without Edward, two weeks in his arms. I remember waking up one night, doing just that – being in his arms. I remember his face buried into the warm crevice of my neck, his body rising slowly as he subconsciously inhaled and exhaled. I remember his cool breath on my neck, the way his lips curved onto my neck as he slept. That night, I'd had incredible dream, just as I did for those eight months. And every night after graduation, I'd wake up crying.

"Ms. Swan?" Judge Weber prompts and I'm thrown back into reality. I turn a shade of red and sit up straighter.

"My apologies, Your Honor," I amend with the Judge. I then turn to Edward. His face is expectant.

"Elizabeth is an incredible girl," I glance at her. "However, she is an unhappy girl. When she was conceived, I think that her parents intended to use the opportunity as a double benefit. Bringing a child into the world, who they could love unconditionally, was something Rebecca and Billy Black had the best intentions of. Helping prolong the life of her sister is something elicited from the situation as well. Yes, Elizabeth feels the responsibility of being her sister's crutch, but I feel her parents wanted their eldest daughter to be saved while they could watch their youngest grow. Over the past few months of observation, I realized that it's critical this family sacrifices anything and everything to extended Leah's minutes. I understand that it's crucial, purely because you'd do anything to keep someone you love," I lower my gaze to the paneled, wooden floors.

The summer after Edward left me, I didn't know how to piece my life back together. I didn't get out of bed before two in the afternoon. I didn't leave my house. Eventually, I stopped brushing my hair, going out, eating. I never returned Alice's calls. I was a pile of broken glass, a puzzle that couldn't be re-pieced. Charlie threatened therapy several times, a notion I nearly succumbed to because I was far past the point of self-repair.

I lift my gaze up, land on the audience and then meet Edward's eyes.

"Unfortunately, there is also a point when it's time to let go." My comment applies to more than the case. It's silent.

"What are your recommendations for the court, Ms. Swan?" Judge Weber finally asks, puzzled.

"I don't have an answer," I sigh. "I know that is unacceptable, but as Mrs. Black said, this case cannot be laid out in black and white. I do not believe it is in Elizabeth's best interests for her to continue donating to her sister. The continuation of being a donor holds no benefits for Elizabeth, it only prolongs Leah's life. However, I do not believe Elizabeth has the mental capabilities to make her own medical decisions." There's murmuring amongst the audience and I cautiously meet Elizabeth's gaze. I expect resentment, yet I receive, to my astonishment, a small smile.

Edward takes the final step toward me and places a hand on my stand. Before he can open his mouth, the courtroom doors burst open and a man sprints toward the bench.

"Mr. Cullen," A courthouse official pants as he reaches Edward. He brandishes a cellular phone and attempts to catch his breath. "Urgent phone call." Edward looks at him with an irksome countenance.

"It can't wait?" He asks. The official shakes his head and turns to Judge Weber.

"Your Honor, I am so sorry for the interruption, but there is an emergency." He says apologetically and finally stops heaving. Judge Weber mutters something under his breath just as Edward puts the phone to his ear.

**EPOV**

I hesitantly place the phone to my ear. What kind of emergency would arise that stumps the importance of a court hearing?

"Hello?" I ask into the unfamiliar phone. All eyes are on me.

"Edward? Edward, it's Jasper," He says in a strained voice, obviously attempting to remain lucid.

"Jasper?" I ask, perplexed. "What's wrong?" A list of possible tragedies reels through my mind as I anticipate his answer. I sense Bella going rigid.

"It's –" But he's cut off. Just then, I hear a blood-curdling shriek in the background, followed by shuffling noises.

"_Edward Anthony_," Alice screams into the phone. "_GET HERE NOW!_" She shrieks so loudly that it goes off the decibel charts. I wince and waver my eyes in uncertainty. They finally land on Bella's chocolate browns ones; they're as big as quarters.

"Alice," I assuage in a soothing voice. "What –" But she cuts me off as well.

"_Get. Here. Now._" She screeches and I hear shuffling once again. The courtroom is so silent that I'm almost certain I can hear the dripping of my sweat.

"Edward –" Jasper attempts once again but I can distinguish him pulling the phone from his ear. I hear the honking of a car horn. "Alice. Alice. _Alice_." I hear in the background, completed with another screech and his soothing shushes.

"Jasper, what's wrong?" My composure slowly unravels and I already have my Volvo keys in my hand. What's wrong with Alice? _My twin. _I think. Again, my eyes lock on Bella's, pleading. She can hear the entire conversation deeming she's a mere two feet away from me.

"Edward," He finally slips from his calm façade. "Alice is going into premature labor."

I'm out the door, Bella and Sam in tow, before Judge Weber can blink.

…………

"Alice," I burst into the hospital room. She's sporting a hospital gown and gripping the gurney's sides. "Alice are you sure this isn't just a contraction? You're only eight months along." I approach her and she snaps her teeth at me.

"Yes," She struggles through her gritted teeth. "I'm almost… fully dilated." She struggles and begins to pant, her raven head hitting the pillow. My concerns immediately regard the health of her child.

"Is the baby alright?" I ask, alarmed.

"Babies are born premature all the time, Edward." She chokes out a laugh and then gasps in pain. At the noise, I rush to her side and brush her dark locks from her strained face. Jasper is calmly pacing back and forth and running his hands through his honey-blonde hair. Bella goes to him first.

"Jazz," She places a hand on his arm and he stops pacing. "Are you alright?" He smiles warmly at her and then at me.

"Yes, I'm fine. We'll be fine." He attempts to exert his soothing affect on the room, but I suppose us Cullen brethren are immune to it. Alice shrieks and I groan simultaneously.

"Alice." Jasper bolts toward his wife, my sister, and gently smoothes her face. He takes her left hand, softly kisses her ring and commences with shushing her edgy noises of pain. Bella, however, stays locked in place. Yet after a moment she makes her away around the bed to Alice's other side and takes her right hand – ignoring my presence although we're an inch apart. An aching in my bones arises as I long to touch her porcelain skin.

"Just think… in a few hours you'll be able to dress it." Bella attempts to lighten the mood and Alice's eyes pop.

"It better be a girl." She says through her teeth and we all laugh in unison.

Fifteen minutes later, the five of us don't move from our respective positions. Alice, ornery and touchy, is in the hospital gurney. I sit in a visitor's chair with Sam at my feet, while Bella sits three chairs away from me with Jasper on her right. I stare at the right hand of the clock, it doesn't move. It's taunting me - a reminder that time cannot be reversed. I sigh heavily and Bella turns to gaze at me inquisitively.

On cue, Alice screams louder than she has all day, but before Jasper can press the help button, I sprint out the room; we both know she's ready. In high school, I was a track captain. There are moments like this that that make me thankful for my ability, but rather than the faces of my school and a rival school blurring by me, it is the walls of the hospital corridor. I maneuver in and out of doctors, patients and medical carts. Finally, I spot a nurse and hastily approach her down the hall.

"Please, Miss. My sister is going into labor; you need to wheel her out. Mary Whitlock, Room 372," I plead with her and she blinks repeatedly. After a moment of silence on her end, I feel an urge to tell her that she shouldn't be thinking about me romantically; that I'm a bastard and I have no soul. "_Miss_." I plead with her again and she finally awakens from her trance.

"Oh yes, of course." She breathes.

To my consternation and anger, my sister is not tended to until ten minutes later. After Alice is wheeled out, her shrieks and moans left in a wake, Bella and I are forced to sit next to be alone. Jasper aids his wife in the delivery room while the woman I'm in love with sits next to me in the waiting room. It's silent, other than the ticking of the clock. No longer apt with the oppressive silence, I place my face into my hands and sigh heavily.

After moments of continuous, domineering hush, I lift my face to find Bella gazing at me. Her gorgeous brown eyes have multiple layers of depth to them, and for a moment, I exit my previous worrisome thoughts and get lost in the swirls of chocolate.

"I'm sorry." My voice comes off quieter than intended.

"For what?" She blinks and absentmindedly runs her fingers against the chair's arm.

"For everything." I murmur. She bites her lip and sighs after a moment too long.

"I need to quit you." She shakes her head.

"I know. And stopping you would make me even more of a prick." I say softly and close my eyes.

"You really need to stop being so addicting." She says quietly and I feel her hand on my arm. I open my eyes and blink.

The summer after Bella and I ended, I worked so hard to go somewhere with my life; to forget. She deserved better, she didn't deserve me. I fled Forks, my family and the eighteen years of my upbringing. I buried myself into a dimension of self-pity and angst, and reemerged myself as a stranger. Masked by a wall of lies, I became a coward. I left Forks because I could see her everywhere. At every intersection, every house, every turn. I saw her reflection in my car's rearview mirror, her smile in my dreams, her waving at me from the side of road. I could hear her fits of giggles in the wind. I could even smell her scent in the air. I left Forks because I needed to get her scent off my skin, to get her laughter out of my mind. Not that it helped. She still haunted me for eight years, everywhere I went, no matter how far away I ran.

"I love you." I say for the first time in nearly a decade. Shock flashes across her face and she drops her hand from my arm.

"This is what I'm talking about, Edward," She shakes her head and turns a slight shade of pink. _She doesn't love you back_. I hear a snickering in my head and I feel the urge to destroy the voice. She drops her gaze and closes her eyes. My heart fissures and I choke back a groan of heartbreak. After a moment, I'm about to get up and leave, but she speaks. "But I can't deny - and I hate myself for this… but… I love you too." She whispers and my heart implodes.

"Come here, Bells." And I wrap her into my arms.

…………

Five hours and a cesarean section later, I am an uncle. I hold my niece in my arms and gaze incredulously at her angelic face. Surrounded by my mother, father, Bella and Sam, it is silent in Alice's hospital room. Jasper is at my sister's side as she contentedly yet sleepily beams at my interaction with her newborn daughter.

I gaze upon my niece's face. She has Alice's bright, blue irises, but locks of Jasper's honey-blond hair sprouts from her milky pale scalp. Her cheeks are rosy and she blinks her large eyes. My mother is crying at my side as she gazes onto her granddaughter, and something stirs in me.

"We named her Annabel Rosalyn Whitlock." Jasper beams and Alice sighs in bliss. My parents and Bella gasp and coo in glee, but I am silent.

"What a beautiful name." My mother sighs into my father's chest.

"Yes." He agrees, smoothing her hair down.

"Annabel." I finally murmur and on cue, she exerts a pealing giggle – Alice's laugh. A smile grows on my face and I softly hug her to my body. A moment later, Alice breaks the serenity.

"Bella," Alice calls and she responds by rushing to her side.

"Yes, Al?" Bella looks at my sister expectantly.

"Her name… it's in tribute to you. We plan to call her Bell." Alice says softly. Bella, in exchange, freezes. And shortly after, she begins to cry.

"Alice, I…" She wipes a tear from her cheek and Esme is immediately at her side.

"Oh dear, don't cry." She shushes her and rubs circles into her back.

"Bella, you're like a sister to me. Please, you've deserved this. You're an amazing person and you've always been there for me – no matter what," She pauses to glance briefly at me. "Jasper and I are in debt to you for everything you've done for us. We love you, Bell." Alice smiles and Bella does as well, through her tears.

"Alice, Jasper, thank you so much." She whispers and my mother hugs her lightly. I gaze down at my niece again and she blinks at me.

"You're her godmother too, Bella. Her namesake and godmother." Jasper says quietly, yet in a warm tone. Bella's eyes lock on mine and then she slowly walks toward me. The room is silent again as she reaches my side and lightly touches my elbow with her fingertips.

"She's beautiful." Bella whispers as she gazes onto Annabel's face.

"She's perfect." I add softly. I'm not looking at my niece.

**Day 3**

Judge Weber is not a happy man. After Bella and I rushed out of the courthouse yesterday, we each received several voicemails entailing the "cheerier" side of the Judge.

"Are you ready to continue?" He asks Bella and I sourly. I'm sitting next to Elizabeth – who is still livid with me.

"Yes, Your Honor. My sincerest apologies for yesterday's events." As Bella is getting sworn in, I accidentally drop my pen.

"Elizabeth could you get that for me?" I ask politely but she crosses her arms.

"I would be wasting time and manpower, wouldn't I?" She mimics my previous statement in a dry tone. I suppress a scowl; she's nearly as stubborn as Bella. I bend down to retrieve the pen. Once it's in my hand, I scribble something onto a piece of paper.

_I'm sorry._ I write and push it toward her. She scans it quickly and takes the pen from me.

_I'm still mad at you_. She writes back.

_I'll make sure you don't have to testify_. I write in my neat script. After she reads it, she pulls a face at me, but a smile twitches at the corner of her lips.

"Counselor, are you ready?" Judge Weber prompts and I swiftly rise.

"Yes, Judge." I make my way around the table and approach Bella.

"Ms. Swan, what are your recommendations for Elizabeth Black?" I cross my arms. She sighs and closes her eyes.

"I do not have a recommendation, Mr. Cullen." She says this more confidently than she did yesterday.

"Why is that?" I raise an eyebrow.

"You're asking me to split a family. That is something I will not do, it being my job or not." Bella gazes at me. I'm just as torn about this case as she is – yet she is displaying it publicly. Sam takes this moment to run up to me and sinks his teeth into the cuff of my suit.

"Down!" I order him but he is still latched on. "Get down!" I growl and he finally subdues. I straighten myself out and then return my gaze to Bella. "Ms. Swan, this is unacceptable."

"I know. Yet, I see Rebecca and Billy Black attempting everything in their power to save their daughter, even if it means sacrificing some things. And then I see Elizabeth, thirteen years old, finally standing up for herself – even if it means losing her sister. It's a lose-lose situation, Mr. Cullen." Bella sighs and shakes her head. Another wave, just as yesterday, of murmuring sweeps across the courtroom and there's a tugging at my sleeve. Expecting to see Sam, I look down and surprisingly find Elizabeth.

"Okay. I'll talk," She whispers to me. She raises her head to meet Judge Weber's stare. "Your Honor, I have something to say."

**Elizabeth POV**

I nervously run a hand along the wood of the witness stand. I peer out into the courtroom and find my mother sitting rigid at her lawyer table, and I scope out my father who smiles at me ever so slightly. I'm not cut out for this. I think about making a run for it when Edward approaches my stand.

"Elizabeth," He gulps. "Do you need water? Anything?" He asks quietly. He looks positively awful. Sweat drips down his face and normally bright, green eyes are clouded and dark – they're as big as quarters.

"Do you?" I ask him, my eyebrow raised. He shakes his head and blinks rapidly. He backs up from the stand and Sam is going wild. He's barking and pawing Edward, whose eyes are still huge. I'm not the only one to notice.

"Mr. Cullen," Judge Weber clears his throat. "Please control your animal." Edward snaps his gaze to his dog and shakes his head.

"Down, Sam. _No_." But the dog ignores him. In return, Edward ignores his dog.

"Elizabeth, what is your reasoning behind filing this petition?" He asks me.

"My mother asked." I say.

"For what?" Sam yelps.

"A kidney." I stare at Edward's loafers.

"Were your parents aware you didn't want to be a donor?" He continues but at this point, Sam begins howling and latches onto Edward's jacket.

"_Mr. Cullen_, I will have the bailiff remove your canine if you cannot control it." Judge Weber warns. Sam unlatches himself but leaps onto Edward's torso and begins pawing his chest. Edward ignores both the Judge and his dog.

"Was it your decision to file this lawsuit all by yourself, Elizabeth?" He continues. He's asking to prove I'm mentally capable of making my own decisions – opposing what Bella pointed out. Sam stops pawing his chest but begins to run in tight circles around him.

"I was convinced by someone." I lower my gaze. The courtroom gasps lightly. My parents' eyes drill into me, a small noise emits from Bella and Edward brushes his hair back in defeat. It's silent except for Sam's barking.

"Elizabeth," Edward sighs. "Who convinced you?"

I wring my hands together. "Leah."

I hear a crash, and for a moment, I think it's the earth opening up to swallow me whole, or a lightening bolt intent on frying my conscious to a crisp. But after a chorus of gasps and a single scream, I peer over the stand to see Edward Cullen on the ground, his dog standing next to him with a smug look on his face that says _told you so_.

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**Well, that was somewhat difficult to write. Lots of stuff to take in!**

**Thanks for reading, it means so much to me. I hope you guys liked it :)**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	15. Mending the Bridge

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**Billy POV**

ABC's. Check the ABC's. Airway, breathing, circulation. For someone having a grand mal seizure, airway is the key. I hop the gate of the gallery and have to fight the dog off. He's standing over Edward Cullen's twitching body and proceeds to snap his teeth at me. My daughter's attorney enters phase one with a cry and suddenly goes rigid. His body is motionless and the air goes thick with tension. But not even a moment later he enters phase two with rapid, sporadic movements from his muscles. I flip him onto his side, to prevent him from choking on his vomit if he retches. His head is placed firmly between my two hands, one on each side, to prevent concussion. Although his cranium is locked in place, the rest of his body slaps the wooden, paneled floors firmly. _Thwack_. _Thwack. Thwack._

"Call an ambulance!" I yell over my shoulder and security begins to block off the perimeter of the courthouse. I frantically look around for something to place between his jaws – so he won't bite his tongue off. And then, something phenomenal happens. The dog sprints over to the attorney's briefcase, knocks it off the table and retrieves a rubber bone. This rubber bone is actually a bite block. The dog drops the block into one of my hands and I place it in between Cullen's teeth.

Bella Swan is suddenly at my side. She's kneeling next to me and stares at the lawyer silently. Her eyes are welled in pools of tears.

"Can't you do something?" And her voice cracks. She shakily lifts a frail hand to touch him but I gently draw her hand away.

"All we can do is wait." I continue to hold his head.

"Why did this happen?" She whispers and she blinks tears away. I don't answer her as we both watch Edward's eyes rolling around in his head.

…………

After the boys from the fire department arrived, we moved him into the judge's chambers. Finally, after too long, Edward Cullen vomits onto the Judge's Oriental rug and coughs his way to consciousness.

"Careful," I say, helping him sit up. "You had a grand mal. It was pretty bad." He stares at me and blinks rapidly.

"What…happened?" He chokes and then coughs. Amnesia is common in the aftermath of a seizure. He holds his head.

"You blacked out." I say calmly. He glances down at his arm and the tube which protrudes from his elbow. It's hooked to an IV that my partner and I set up for him on the chamber's sofa.

"I don't need this." He shakes his head slowly.

"Like hell you don't. If you don't take antiseizure medication you'll be back on the floor in no time." I raise an eyebrow at him and he hesitantly sinks his head into the sofa's cushion.

"Does the Judge know?" He asks. I don't respond and it's silent. He groans loudly and closes his eyes.

"In front of _everyone_?" He opens his eyes and they're large in bewilderment. I nod solemnly.

"How long have you hidden it?" I lean forward and interlace my fingers. He sighs deeply now and runs his fingers through his oddly colored hair.

"Ever since it started. Eight years ago, when I was eighteen." He shakes his head and sighs again.

"Head trauma?" I ask calmly. He nods quietly. "Your father is a doctor. How is he unaware?" I probe and he emits a low moan.

"He doesn't know," Before I can open my mouth, he attempts to switch the subject. "Elizabeth…" He furrows his brow. "Elizabeth. I have to go back in there." He declares.

"Not yet." Edward and I both turn to the sound of Bella's voice. She's standing in the doorway with her arms crossed. Her eyes are red and she stares at him like she's never seen him in the light before.

"I… erm, I'm going to see if the boys have filed any reports yet." I say uncomfortably and get up. As I walk out the door, it occurs to me that no one ever knew about Edward's condition. He hid from the world.

**EPOV**

The aftermath of a grand mal seizure is the equivalent of drinking five handles of vodka the night before, getting hit by a truck after walking home from the frat party and then getting body slammed by a champion heavyweight boxer walking out of the hospital. Covered in my own filth, hooked up to medication and falling apart at the seams, Bella approaches me.

"It's a seizure dog." I say.

"I know that now." She responds sourly and sits next to me, inches from my shoulder.

"I'm sorry." I shake my head. It's quiet for a moment.

"Why didn't you tell me, Edward?" She finally asks softly.

"Bella," I sigh deeply. "I didn't even tell my parents. Not even Alice." I lean back into the sofa and close my eyes.

"How long has it been going on?" She murmurs. I attempt to avoid the question by getting up, but I make it an inch above the sofa before my body collapses underneath me. I sigh in defeat.

"A while." I don't meet her gaze.

"As in a week?" She whispers and lightly places a hand on my shoulder. I shake my head yet don't answer. After a moment, I take a deep breath and plunge into the truth.

"A while, as in the night before graduation," I finally meet her gaze. "I left the Volturi's' party early – well, snuck out. But on the way to your house I got into a car accident. I walked away bruised and scraped, but that night I had my first seizure. Thank God that Alice decided to spend the night at your house, otherwise she would have known. I drove the half hour to the other hospital – so my father wouldn't have found out. Esme assumed I was at pre-graduation party. Thirty cat-scans later, the doctors couldn't tell me what was wrong with me. It was apparent I had head trauma though, and they made it clear that I would have to live with it for the rest of my life. I was already eighteen so they let me keep my medical record private… away from my parents," I pause to sigh and then continue. "I realized that night that my life would be handicapped forever, and no one else should have to live with that."

"What?" Bella's voice cracks and she gazes at me intently.

"Bella," I sigh. "You deserved better than me. You're beautiful, intelligent, caring, amazing. You deserved better than a guy who could come down foaming at the mouth any second of the day." She goes rigid.

"That's what you meant about us not being able to be together? That's _it_, Edward?" She says incredulously. I don't meet her gaze. "Well, you could have asked my opinion first." She spits. I shake my head.

"You say that so easily. But when you'd have to wipe me up and dress me down, what satisfaction do you gain from that? You'd have to watch over me like Sam. Bella. You're too independent for that. There was no way in hell I was going to take that away from you." I focus on the details of the rug and shakily inhale.

"If I had a choice, Edward, maybe I wouldn't have spent the past eight years thinking there was something wrong with me." She says angrily.

"You?" I can't hold back a short laugh. "Look at you, Bella. You're a knockout. A bombshell. You have a successful career, you're good with people, you're perfect. I bet you can even pay your bills on time. And look at me, a freak who pulls this off," I point at my IV. "On an irregular basis." She shakes her head vigorously.

"Edward," She sighs. "But I'm lonely. And I hog the covers, I cry too much, my top lip is bigger than the bottom one. I trip over flat surfaces. My hair never cooperates, I'm stubborn to the point where I'm certifiably mental, I eat all the chocolate when I'm hormonal and I'm capable of unintentionally setting anything on fire." I finally turn to gaze into her eyes.

"I know," I say quietly. "And letting you go was the biggest mistake of my life." She withdraws her hand from my shoulder.

"This time, it's my turn to leave _you_," She gazes at me with her chocolate brown eyes. I keep my face calm, although my insides churn and my heart cracks.

"So go –" But she cuts me off.

"In sixty or seventy years." Bella takes my hand in her own and my eyes prick. I lace her fingers within my own and bury my face into her neck. I smell her strawberry scent and let it seep through my pores, intoxicating me. The milky smoothness of her porcelain neck aids as a pillow for me as I sigh deeply. The slope of her neck, my favorite spot on her, welcomes me back after eight years.

It's silent as our minds reel with thoughts. I think about everything that has happened in the past few months. By some joke of God, Bella, the love of my life, was thrown back into it. My client, Elizabeth, is the first stranger I've grown to know and care for. My sister, of whom I cut off contact with, came back into my life just as quickly. She now has a family, an admirable man and a gorgeous daughter. My niece. I think of Annabel and the way she emitted Alice's signature pealing giggle, the way Jasper infamously brushes Alice's hair back when she's angry, the look in their eyes when they silently gaze at their daughter. I think of their family and happiness, and then I think of Bella. Only celestial images can describe her angelic beauty and qualities. Thinking of all this, I break off from who I've been and welcome back who I was.

"Bella," I murmur into the crevice. I let my lips curve onto the silky surface.

"Edward…" She says softly in a dreamy, dazzled voice.

"Will you marry me?" Her body freezes and she slowly lifts my head up to meet her gaze.

"You've gone mental." She mutters. I shake my head and gaze at her intently. Her eyes go wide and she inhales sharply.

"I was going to ask you on graduation." I say softly and tears well up in her eyes. I gently brush a tear from the corner of her eye and it trickles down my finger.

"What?" She croaks in a half-whisper.

"I still have the ring." I look away. I do not have an answer as to why I never returned it.

"I don't know," She shakes her head. "You broke me for a really long time." The tears begin to wash down her beautiful face and I wipe them away with my one, free hand.

"I understand," I say quietly. I never anticipated her to say yes. "Will you take the ring though? It's been haunting me for too long." I murmur. She casts her eyes downward and concentrates on the seams of the sofa. The core of my existence has gradually depleted my soul.

"I'll think about it," She finally brings her eyes to meet mine. "Let's get you better first."

"You're too coy," I give her her favorite smile. She blushes and blinks several times. "I'm made of titanium steel, love." I resurrect yet another one of her nicknames and then proceed to brush my lips against her smooth cheek.

"You've been gone eight years and you already remember how to dazzle me." She sighs and I smile against her skin. I pull away and gaze into her gorgeous eyes.

"You still believe that? I always thought you were ridiculous with that notion." I chuckle and she doesn't respond – she's staring at me with wide eyes. I laugh louder and then kiss her sweetly, laced with saccharine.

**Elizabeth POV**

I walk into the men's bathroom without knocking and find him at the sink washing his hands. He's paler than usual and his normally perfect face is haggard and frayed. He has a gauze pad medically taped to the crease of his elbow – where his IV was.

"Are you okay?" I ask meekly. And he turns the tap off.

"Yes," He nods. "I apologize for what happened." He wipes his hands.

"Is that why I couldn't walk Sam?" I bite my lip.

He nods again. "How does he know what to do?" I ask curiously.

"It's something to do with electrical impulses. Canines can sense them twenty minutes before humans can. He usually gets me somewhere safe, away from the public, if it happens. I didn't listen this time." He sighs and pats Sam on the top of his head.

"Is this why… you took my case?" I ask shyly. I've been with Leah plenty of times when she's been extremely ill, but this is something different. I hadn't been expecting this from Edward.

"So I could have a public seizure? Elizabeth, believe me, no."

"No," I shake my head. "Because you know what it's like to not have control over your body." He throws his paper towel into the trash.

"Maybe." He says quietly after a moment.

"I told you I shouldn't have testified." I shift my glance. He walks over to me and places his hands on my shoulders.

"If I can go back in there, you can too." He looks at me directly and I finally nod. I follow him back into the courtroom and it is thick with silence. All eyes follow Edward, watching him like a ticking bomb. He walks toward the bench and I realize how out of place he looks. He is usually walking perfection, but now, he does not wear his suit jacket. His white button-up is ruffled and his tie is slightly loosened. His right sleeve is rolled up, sitting just above his elbow to expose the taped gauze pad. It was done hastily by my dad and you can see the layers of tape straining against his muscles.

"I apologize for what happened earlier." He declares to the room and I surreptitiously and uncomfortably take my seat at the witness stand.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off, Counselor?" Judge Weber asks cautiously but Edward shakes his head.

"I'm fine, Your Honor. Nothing like a ten-minute break, right?" He flashes a crooked grin. How can he joke about something like this? But then it hits me. Leah jokes about her condition too, and maybe if you're paired with a handicap, there's nothing else to do but to laugh it off. In tragedy comes a couple extra doses of humor.

"Could you refresh my memory?" He brushes a hand through his hair and turns to the record-keeper. She pulls out the transcript and reads it off to him. He nods and then turns to me. He no longer looks like a lawyer. "Elizabeth, you were saying that Leah asked you to file a lawsuit for medical emancipation?"

"Not exactly." I squirm in my seat.

"Can you explain?" He gazes at me.

"She didn't ask me to file a lawsuit." I shift my glance.

"Then what did she ask you?" He continues to look at me calmly. I glance at my mother; she doesn't know. I glance at my father; he doesn't know. Nobody knows.

"Elizabeth," Edward presses. "What did Leah ask you?" I shake my head vigorously and blink back a sheet of tears.

"Elizabeth, you have to give us an answer." Judge Weber prompts.

"Okay," I take a deep breath and brace myself for the explosion. "She asked me to kill her."

_I had just come home from soccer practice, caked in sweat and fatigue. The first thing I noticed that was wrong was the door to our shared room locked. We didn't have a lock, meaning Leah must have pushed furniture against the door. I began to furiously bang on the door – I really needed a shower. Finally, Leah opened the door silently and let me in. Nothing seemed out of place, so after shooting my sister a glare, I ventured into our bathroom. This was when I noticed the second thing out of place: the atmosphere was laced in an alcoholic aroma. That sweet, boozy scent that I associate with Jake's room clung in the air and I finally found the bottle of whiskey behind the box of tampons. _

"_Planning for a big night?" I walked back into the bedroom and brandished the bottle. She was sitting delicately on her bed and her large, sad eyes met mine. I was about to open my mouth again, thinking I had some excellent sibling blackmail. That's when I saw the pills in her hands. _

"_Are you crazy?" I asked her, alarmed. She rolled over onto her side._

"_Leave me alone, Liz." She clutched her side._

"_I know you're sixteen and supposed to have some rebellious phase, but seriously, Leah." I began to walk toward her when she rolled over again to face me._

"_I'm tired of waiting for something we all know is going to happen," She said. "I think I've screwed up all yours lives for too long." _

"_Everyone's tried so hard to keep you here. You can't kill yourself." I attempted and her face broke down._

"_I know. I can't." She began to cry and this is when I realized she's tried before._

"That's not true," My mother gets up and begins to shake her head. "It's not true." She repeats and has a strained smile on her face. Her smile is wide but there are tears in her eyes.

"Would I make it up, Mommy?" My eyes begin to well.

"She probably had a bad day. You know she can get dramatic. If she really felt that way, she would have told me." Her voice cracks as walks toward me.

"She couldn't tell you," I shake my head. "She wouldn't kill herself because she was afraid it would kill you too." The tears stream down and my mother shakes her head again.

"It's not true." She repeats and her voice is a small whisper. By this point, I'm crying so hard that I don't notice Edward begging Judge Weber for a couple minute break.

"I don't want her to die, but I don't want her to live like this. I'm the only one who can give her what she wants." I sob and Edward's arms are around me. When my mother approaches the bench, he releases me and falls back.

"Elizabeth…" She begins to shake. But at this moment my father has his arms around her.

"Come sit down." He whispers into her hair.

"Elizabeth," Edward says my name again. He steps toward me.

"Do you love your sister?" He asks softly. The edge to his aggressive attorney offensive is gone.

"Yes. So much." I nod.

"Did you tell Leah you were going to stop being a donor?"

"Yes." I close my eyes.

"When was this?" His voice is nearer.

"The night before I walked into your office." I hiccup and the tears continue.

"What did she say, Elizabeth?" His voice is soothing honey.

"She said thanks."

**Rebecca POV**

The entire courtroom transfers to the eighth floor of the hospital. Judge Weber declared that he needed to speak with Leah, and when we all arrive, she is propped up in her bed absentmindedly watching television. Her translucent skin is milky in the florescent hospital lighting and her blue eyes are haggard from fighting the battle. Jacob is sitting at the end of her bed, facing her.

"Vampire or a werewolf?" Jacob asks her.

"Vampire, definitely." She says.

"Are you serious?" Jacob snorts. "A werewolf would obliterate a vampire."

"No way." She shakes her head. "The crocodile hunter or Captain Planet?"

"The Capitano. He's the man," Jacob laughs. "Gandhi or Martin Luther King Jr.?" He asks.

"They wouldn't sign the waiver." Leah smiles.

"Babe, waivers don't matter. Pick one." Jake rolls his eyes. This is when I walk in. My children glance at me.

"Hey mom." Leah says. Jake doesn't greet me. But she takes this moment to realize I'm not alone and her eyes pop out of her head. She slinks underneath her blanket and stares out at the crowd trickling in through the room.

"Becca, I know you want to speak with her but I _need_ to speak with her," He places a hand on my shoulder and steps toward my daughter. Jake eyes him warily but keeps his mouth shut. "Hi, Leah. I'm Judge Weber. I'd like a few minutes to speak with you, please." He says and she slowly reemerges out from her blanket. Everyone trickles back out the room and finally, I am the last to leave.

Ten minutes later, Judge Weber comes back outside with a grim look on his face. Billy, Elizabeth, Edward, Bella and I all stand.

"Closing is at nine A.M. tomorrow." He eyes us and turns to walk down the corridor.

"I'll meet you downstairs." Edward squeezes Bella and this is when I notice his arm is draped around her shoulder. When did get together? Or were they always together, and this is one of many things I've never noticed in my fight for Leah? She gives me an apologetic look and turns to walk down the same corridor Judge Weber did.

"Rebecca," Edward sighs. "I'm sorry," He says simply. "You'll take Elizabeth home?" And without another word, turns to catch up with Bella.

"Mom," I hear a voice next to me. "Can I see her?" Elizabeth says softly.

"Of course you can." I slide an arm around her.

Our entire family is in the room and Elizabeth goes over to wrap her arms around her delicate sister.

"I tried." She whispers. Jacob sits on the other side of the bed and grabs Leah's left hand. The three of them together reminds me of a Christmas card, lining them up by height; tallest, middle and shortest. Jacob's dark brown hair is beginning to curl at the bottom of his ears – he needs a haircut. Leah's platinum blonde hair is growing back in tufts and Elizabeth's light brown hair spills across her thin shoulders.

"Spiderman or Batman?" Jacob asks. The corners of Leah's mouth raise into a smile.

"Batman. It might take a few rounds though." She laughs. Billy bends over the bed and kisses her forehead.

"Get a good night's sleep, baby." Elizabeth and Jake slip away into the hallway and he kisses me goodbye too. I walk slowly toward the bed.

"I suppose you have questions." Leah sighs and bites her lip.

"Maybe later." My responses surprises myself and I crawl into the bed to encase her in my arms. It's silent for a moment.

"Leah," I confess. "I am so sorry." She pushes me away to stare at me.

"Don't be, Mommy." She says softly. "Because I'm not." She tries to smile but it's faltering. "It was a good one, wasn't it? The past sixteen years." Her smile wavers for a moment but she recomposes it.

"The best." I nod and feel the heaviness of my tears and acceptance.

**BPOV**

"I'm only staying over for a little." I say stubbornly as we step into his apartment.

"Why's that?" Edward looks at me, but there's a teasing glint in his eyes.

"Because I'm not yours. I can leave whenever I want." I scowl.

"Jesus, Bella. Would you just shut up already?" And then he pulls me into him and kisses me. It's a long and sweet, and after we break apart he holds my face in his hands. My heart pumps rapidly and my breathing turns shallow as I get lost into his sea of emerald eyes. I've completely forgotten our prior conversation.

"I'll make you dinner." He kisses the tip of my nose and gives me my favorite crooked smile.

"Edward, no – " I begin to object. However, he silences me with a kiss and I am silly-puddy in his hands.

A warm feeling of happiness spreads from my fingers to my toes, and finally, after too long, everything is alright in the world.

"Any preference on what you'd like to eat?" He grabs my hand and leads me toward the kitchen. Sam's pitterpattering follows us.

"I'll cook." I insist but he shakes his head. Just then, I nearly trip over the wooden floors and Edward begins to laugh.

"There wasn't even anything there." He teases and I blush furiously.

"Really, Edward, I'll cook." I attempt to change the subject. His face turns serious.

"Shush, Bella. Don't be ridiculous, it's my home." He smiles crookedly and I find myself speechless again.

I seat myself at the kitchen table and he rolls up his shirtsleeves. He proceeds to kneel, rummages around in the cabinets and produces a spatula and a pan. He places the pan onto the stove and heats it, but absentmindedly begins to twirl the spatula in his right hand. However, before he explores the fridge he leans over the marble countertops to flick on his intimidating and extravagant music player. Trumpets blast through the air and I immediately realize it's Frank Sinatra; 1950s music. Edward's music.

"You're such an old-timer," I tease. "You still listen to this?" I smile at him and he chuckles.

"Do not belittle art." He raises an eyebrow at in a taunting way and I can't hold back a laugh.

"Art? It's just jazz." I scoff.

"And it's far superior to your moody Led Zeppelin crap." He retorts and I make a face at him. We've had this conversation a thousand times over – eight years ago.

"Absolutely not. The electrical genius of Jimmy Page trumps your petty brass instruments any day." I cross my arms and he throws his head back in laughter.

"Petty? The depressive moaning of the '70s is pettier to the refined, classicism of the '50s." He smirks and I look at him pointedly.

"It's just beeps, bops and crooning." I retort.

"And yours is moaning and wailing with some amplified guitar solos thrown in." He grins.

"I still win." I shake my head.

"You silly woman," He laughs. "Stop being so stubborn. And for the record, guitars are cliché. This is classic." He winks. I scowl at him and he chuckles as he turns around and opens the refrigerator door. As he's rummaging through the contents, I hear him faintly singing to himself.

_Yes, you're lovely with your smile so warm, and your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me but to love you, and the way you look tonight_

He quietly sings as he turns around, the ingredients in his arms. As he spreads them out across the counter, he continues, humming along to the trumpets as they perkily blast.

"Edward…" I laugh and he makes eye contact with me but doesn't cease his singing.

_Lovely… never, ever change. _His green eyes are large and animated as he proceeds to wave the spatula in the air. His honey smooth voice continues to hit every note as the volume rises.

_Keep that breathless charm._ He points to me with the spatula and I furiously blush.

"You're ridiculous." I giggle and he makes his way over to me. He holds his hand out for me to take, and after I do, leads me toward the middle of the kitchen. Edward twirls me and then brings me back to his chest.

_Won't you please arrange it? Cause I just love you… _He sings loudly and sways me to the beeps and bops of the brass. I giggle uncontrollably and he spins me again.

_Just the way you look tonight. Mm, mm, mm. _He hums and I blush crimson as he dips me dramatically, the spatula still in his hand.

"You're going to kill me. I'm uncoordinated remember?" I raise an eyebrow at him except he ignores the comment and continues to hum. As the song ceases, he finally releases me and I double over in laughter.

"Is this what you've been doing all these years? Singing to yourself in your kitchen?" I muse and he smiles.

"I sing opera to Sam sometimes." He jokes and I giggle.

"Do you still play piano?" I ask.

"I honestly haven't played in years," He admits. "But sit, stop distracting me. I _said_ I'd dance with you only once." He grins wickedly.

"You're so nonsensical." I shake my head.

"Only for you."

…………

"I see your cooking has gotten better." I joke and swish my wine glass. Tony Bennett, of course, is playing in the background as we're eating an exquisite meal of chicken alfredo. However, when we were eighteen, he almost blew up a microwave making soup. Although I had to wash the condensed soup out of his bronze locks, I remember the way his green eyes crinkled in immense laughter. Eventually, I had to teach him how to cook.

"Someone had to feed me." He laughs and I giggle imagining an emaciated Edward.

After we are finished with our meal, I grab his plate and place it into the sink, alongside mine. I reach my hand forward to run the water but his hand comes from nowhere. Drawing my hand back and placing it at my side, he wraps his arms around my waist from behind rests his chin on my shoulder.

"I'll do that." He murmurs somewhere near my ear. My heart races and I succumb to him.

"I really think you should sit down. You've had a long day." I say softly after recomposing myself. I twist myself around in his embrace and smile at the gorgeous man. He smiles a breathtaking smile in return and leads me toward the den. We pop in a movie, take a seat and nestle into one another on the sofa.

He encases me in an embrace and I rest my head against his chest. I rise up and down, in collaboration with his breathing…

I wake up startled. It takes me a moment to register where I am and who I am with, but after the realization sets in so does euphoria. I peek up at my angel and blush slightly.

"Sorry for falling asleep…" I say meekly. He smiles in response and kisses the top of my head.

"Don't apologize, love. You're tired. I think I should get you home." He begins to rise but I latch myself onto him tighter.

"What time is it?" I attempt.

"Half past midnight." He smirks. I make a face, bury my face further into his torso and inhale his intoxicating scent. He smoothes my hair down and it's quiet for a few moments.

I think about how much he's hurt me, yet how irrevocably in love I am with him.

"Can I see it?" I finally whisper.

"See what?" He asks gently.

"The ring." I muffle into his chest and he goes rigid. Finally, after some silence he slides out from underneath me and treks into the depths of his apartment. A few minutes later, he returns with a small, velvet box in his right hand. My heart nearly stops, but it sputters when he sits down next to me.

Slowly, he opens the box and I nearly faint when I see the ring. The diamond would sink me to the bottom of the ocean if I ever attempted to swim with it. It glints brightly, even in the dim lighting of the den.

"Oh, Edward… It's so beautiful. Why didn't you return it?" My eyes are huge as I stare at him in amazement. He shrugs.

"I suppose it was a keepsake." He says nonchalantly and snaps the box shut. The noise reverberates off the walls and after the vibration ends, I hesitantly reach for it. When my fingertips touch it I run a finger across the velvet. He gazes at me with an intensity that stirs my soul, and finally I retrieve the box from his hand. I roll it around in my hands and eye it warily. After some more silence, I do something that surprises me. I re-open the box and attempt to wedge the ring out from its holder. I twist the small, delicate trinket this way and that, gazing at it from every angle. My heart flutters and I shakily inhale as I slide it onto the fourth finger of my left hand.

"That's unorthodox, Bells." Edward muses in a quiet voice. I pretend to scowl at him.

"We're not exactly traditional, Edward." I can't hide a smile. The ring fits perfectly. And then, in a flash, Edward is on one knee with my left hand in his own. My heart stops and so does my breathing.

"Isabella Marie Swan," He begins. "I love you. You're the woman of my dreams, the love of my life. Nothing about you is anything short of perfect. You're the first person I want to see when I wake up in the morning and the last when I go to sleep at night. I need to spend the rest of my life with you because I've spent the past eight years without you. I wouldn't call those past eight years living, but I need to start again. And that is with you. I just got you back and I know this seems absolutely crazy, but I've realized I can't spend any more time without you. So please, Bells, will you marry me?" His emerald eyes are blazing with emotion and I can't help but begin to cry. Through my river of tears, I manage to croak out a word which destroys all the walls I put up to keep him out forever.

"Yes." I nod and he slowly gets up from the floor. He wipes my tears with his thumbs, gently raises my left hand and kisses the ring.

"I love you." He murmurs. His eyes are blazing with a smoldering look of love and emotion.

"I love you too." I sigh and wipe my eyes.

"Are you sure this isn't too fast for you? Just yesterday we loathed one another." He smirks.

"This is a bit ridiculous…" I smile. "I can't see myself with anyone else, but… you need to regain my trust." I say softly. In response, he lifts up my left hand.

"When you feel you're ready to trust me again, I'll give you the ring." He says gently. I attempt to wedge the ring off my finger and I place it lightly into his palm. It glints in the light again.

"It may take awhile." I cup my hand behind his neck.

"I know, but I'm willing to wait. I'll win you back." He smiles crookedly and he already has a head start.

"However, Edward Cullen," I tease. "You still have my promise of marriage." I end in a whisper. Emotion flashes across his emerald eyes and he closes his hand around the ring.

"So are you my half-fiancée?" He grins.

"Something like that." I smile back and he suddenly lifts me up, bridal style. I wrap my arms around his neck and he swiftly walks us toward his bedroom.

"The dishes aren't washed." I tease.

"Sam can do them." He props me down onto the bed and walks toward his dresser. He retrieves an old shirt for me with _Hamden Track and Field_ sprawled across it.

After we both change, we crawl into bed together.

"This is crazy." I sigh blissfully into his collarbone. To my glee and ecstasy, Edward sleeps shirtless.

"I know. But I love you so much." He kisses my forehead. Because the room is dark, I have trouble finding his lips. He chuckles lightly and gives them to me. After a few minutes we break apart and I fall into a lucid trance.

"Are you still not mine?" He teases.

"I'm yours." I smile into the curve of his clavicle.

"As am I." He runs a hand along my arm, causing me to shiver.

"Goodnight, Edward." I say sleepily and kiss his chest.

"Goodnight, Bella." He responds and nestles his head into my jungle of hair.

"Remember, I hog the covers." I yawn.

"I know you do. I wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

**Happy Valentine's Day! Thanks for reading!**

**Sorry, I had to add fluff. After all, it is love day. I felt inclined to :)**

**If you want to check out the song Edward went silly to, it's in my profile**

**It's called: The Way You Look Tonight by Frank Sinatra**

**double kisses (for Vday!), JennyCullen44**


	16. Do Not Read

Stupid glitch. Here's some irrelevant author's note so chapter 16 actually shows up as chapter 17. Thanks a bunch for reading!

kisses, JennyCullen44


	17. Don't Read

Here's another one. Sorry! Woowee. Guess what I'm going to say?

kisses, JennyCullen44 - if you guessed this you get a virtual hug


	18. Wins & Losses

**READ: Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

**If you're illiterate or negligent and decide to start beef, feel free to PM me**

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**BPOV – Last Day**

The thunder wakes me up. It rattles the windows and a moment after, I hear another splitting crack and a shattering boom shortly following. The windows of Edward's bedroom buckle and I bury my face into his chest to drown out the noise of the storm. He grunts in a dormant response and unconsciously drapes his arm over my blanketed waist.

I attempt to drift back into sleep, but the moment my eyes flutter shut another clap of thunder reverberates throughout the city of Seattle. Grudgingly, I snap my eyes open again. The rain plummets down and it pounds at the windows, against the walls, and surrounds us in a gush. It roars against the pavement down below; it's deafening. I lucidly gaze out the window and watch the raindrops racing one another down the glass, zipping to the bottom. Water gushes down the balcony like a waterfall, and on cue, a streak of lightning draws across the grey sky. For a second, the sky goes white.

When the thunder booms again, I study the geography of Edward's face. I gaze at the slope of his right-angle jaw line, the cliff of his cheekbones and the curve of his nose. His eyelashes are black and they rest against his light skin. Then carefully, I raise a finger and lightly trace a smile over his lips. I start from one corner of his mouth, curve downward and end up at the other corner. At this, he stirs.

His eyes open at a sluggish speed and he blearily blinks a few times. The depth of his green eyes quickens the pace of my heart and I lose all comprehension of the past couple minutes' events.

"Good morning, Bella." He says sleepily yet musically.

"Morning." I blush at him. His eyes are half-open.

"Did you leave the shower on?" He suppresses a yawn and inches his head toward mine on the pillow. His back is facing the floor-length windows.

"No, it's storming pretty bad." I bite my lip and he closes his eyes momentarily but reopens them.

"It's very Forks-esque." He murmurs. The gushing sound of water nearly drowns out his silky voice.

"Very." I gaze into his emerald eyes and he gently lifts his thumb to smooth my eyebrow, which drags lightly across my temple to tuck a lock of my hair behind my ear. My heart rate doubles.

"Do you want to use my shower or step out onto the balcony?" He smiles slightly and I roll my eyes. He chuckles quietly, kisses my forehead and slips out from underneath the covers. Edward plants his feet on the ground and lithely stands. His back faces me and I succumb to the planes of muscle that strain when he lifts his hands to ruffle his reddish-brown hair. He's wearing blue-striped boxers. I prop myself upright in his bed and gaze at the way he places a hand against the glass. Lightning streaks across the sky again, illuminating it and casting Edward's silhouette across the wooden floors.

"What are you doing?" I ask quietly. The only noise is the thudding of the raindrops.

"It reminds me of home." He says. His hand is still pressed against the plate of glass; the only thing between him and the storm.

"Me too." I respond and flop my head onto the pillow. He turns around and I struggle to avert my gaze from his abdominal area to his eyes. Knowing I won't prevail, I nestle my face into the pillow. It's caked in his scent.

Then, I feel his arms around my waist from behind and he rests his chin on my shoulder. I place a hand over one of his and sigh lightly.

"I don't want to go today." I whisper. I'm referring to court – trial closes today. Because no matter what the verdict is, it still isn't over. Elizabeth Black's life will never be the same.

"Neither do I." He murmurs. We stay like this, pondering the possibilities of Elizabeth's lose-lose situation. Because quite frankly, we're both in too deep to not wonder how she'll fare.

**EPOV**

Rebecca paces back and forth, muttering under her breath and reviewing her note cards. The rain is hammering the roof of the courthouse. I'm seated next to Elizabeth and she's nervously wrapping a thread from her skirt around her finger.

"You're going to unravel it." I say to her. She looks up at me and untwists the single string slowly.

"Do you think we're going to win, Edward?" She asks me sadly. I intertwine my fingers.

"Would you like the truth?" I gaze at the experienced thirteen-year old next to my shoulder. She nods and doesn't blink. I sigh heavily. "It doesn't matter if we win." I hear a cracking noise and the walls of the courthouse rattle in the aftermath of the rumble.

"I know." She sighs.

"Are you ready?" I ask her. This time, she blinks.

"For what? For my sister to die?"

…………

Elizabeth and I continue to sit at our respective table when Rebecca tosses the note cards. Thunder booms again and she shakily approaches the bench.

"Your Honor, I only have one thing to say." She wrings her hands.

"Commence." He nods.

"Elizabeth," She turns to her daughter and takes a step forward. "I love you, more than you can imagine. But I also love Leah just as equally. I understand that you want everything to be equal between you and Leah, just as a sibling must share. I also understand that maybe the love I have for both you and your sister has not been displayed to be equal, but in my heart it is. You begin to forget that there are other things in life other than fighting a battle for your family; that maybe there are things that didn't deserve to get looked over. Many decisions I've made for you have made you unhappy, and for that, I am so sorry. I'm sorry for pushing you so hard, but as a mother, you want your children to receive everything equally. I tried to balance it, yet I failed. However, I did what I felt was right," She turns to me.

"I was a lawyer once. I dressed up, read my cards and did my job. But I am no longer a lawyer. Now, I am a mother. As a parent, you'd jump at every chance you could to save your child. I'm not insinuating that you are callous, I'm simply stating that you don't understand. When you have children, Mr. Cullen, you'll look back on this and understand." She inhales heavily, nods once at Judge Weber and returns to her table.

I stand. "This case isn't about a kidney," I begin. "It's about the right to choose. I implore you to look at this girl," I point to Elizabeth. "What do you see? You may see a thirteen-year old and immediately deem her as selfish for presenting this lawsuit. You may call her naïve, but she knows very well the repercussions of this case. Elizabeth didn't file this suit because she desired to be a normal teenager, or was exhausted of the medical procedures. She did this for a larger reason, one that is selfless, and although it questions the quality and sanctity of her sister's life, it is Leah's wish. The respect and love Elizabeth has for her sister is abundant to a point where she is willing to place her out of perpetual misery. But to be quite frank, what I say has no importance. What her parents say have no importance, what you say, Your Honor, has no importance. The only thing that is important is what Elizabeth has to say." I smile at her and she smiles back. After Judge Weber scratches his chin, I regain my spot next to my client.

He calls for a break. During this, I sit, once again, with Elizabeth in a conference room.

"You're the only person who's stood up for me." She traces drawings into the tabletop with her finger.

"Well, you deserve to be stood up for." I meet her eyes.

"When you talk about me… I feel like you're talking about someone else." She props her elbows onto the table.

"That's all you. You're fantastic, even if you don't see it now."

When we all reenter the courtroom, Judge Weber is staring at a picture of his daughter, Angela. This is when I know I've lost the case; he's a parent, he understands.

He clears his throat. "This decision has not been simple. In fact, this whole lawsuit is multi-layered and complex. As Mr. Cullen said, it questions the quality and sanctity of Leah Black's life, and it has grown, indeed, into a case about the right of choice rather than an organ transplant. As a parent, I understand the Black's tenacity toward curing Leah, and although some decisions have been potentially immoral, it is expected of them. However, it is her request to end the struggle that her parents have fought for. Not only that, but one of these girls deserves medical emancipation," He pauses. "And that is Elizabeth,"

I inhale deeply and he continues.

"Medically, the Blacks have no say on Elizabeth. However, she must continue to obey their parental demands. Going to bed before midnight, eating your vegetables and not having permission to attend a party are all things you must oblige to, if they request it," He gazes at Elizabeth. "However, regarding medical decisions, that is your choice. Your parents must speak with your pediatrician. As well, I'm going to appoint Mr. Cullen as your medical power of attorney when you come across a difficult decision. Of course, everything is now your choice, but he will be there to help you until you reach eighteen years of age," He eyes meet mine. "Do you accept this responsibility, Mr. Cullen?"

I turn to Elizabeth and grin at her. "I'd be honored." She smiles back and something stirs within me. I now have Bella, Elizabeth and Annabel.

Judge Weber pounds his gavel. "That's all. Good luck to you, sweet Elizabeth." He nods and the court rises.

"You did it." I bend down to embrace her.

"No, we did." She smiles into my chest. Bella approaches us and embraces Elizabeth as well.

"How's it feel to be medically emancipated?" Bella squeezes her shoulders.

"The same." She shrugs.

"Here, I'll drive you to the hospital." I offer and then her parents approach us. She goes silent and her eyes avert to Bella's heels.

"Come here." Billy Black finally smiles and pulls his daughter into a hug. She hugs him back, and after a moment, Rebecca joins in.

As I watch their familial acceptance, I slink an arm around Bella's waist.

"I have to drive her to the hospital after we fill out the forms, but I'll call you." I smile crookedly, bend down and kiss her.

"I told you you'd get together." Elizabeth points to us, interrupting our kiss, and I, alongside Bella, chuckle heartily.

**Billy POV**

I receive a call regarding a motor vehicle accident at an intersection on the East side of town. One car and a truck; a head-on collision.

I snap my phone shut. "They need me." I say, torn, to Becca. She nods in comprehension and Leah holds her hand out to me. We've all come to an acceptance on her fate, even though my heart breaks slightly.

"See you, Daddy." She strains a smile. She has a face meant to smile, albeit her ethereal countenance. Maybe she'll be smiling in Heaven. Maybe she'll always be smiling, to make up for lost time. Maybe I can see her smile in my dreams; when she visits me. Maybe I can see her smile in the constellations at night. Maybe her smile will be genuine and I no longer have to see her cry.

I lean over her hospital bed to kiss her platinum locks lightly, and linger.

"I'll be back." I whisper. I find it difficult to tear myself away. Every moment from now is precious; every moment could be a last.

In the firetruck, the rain pours down around us. The wipers aren't quick enough and the front window is enveloped in a sea of droplets. Blurry, clear, blurry, clear. The sirens blare, the water underneath the wheels swish and the environment zips past us as we race toward the intersection. When the site of the accident comes into view, the police have already blocked off the perimeter.

"Jesus." My partner, Seth, breathes.

A silver Volvo lays in shreds. The front of the vehicle is torn clean off; the hood lies twenty feet away. Shattered glass litters the asphalt and the car body is bent in half. It didn't stand a chance; the Volvo is purely a scrap of metal now. My eyes stray to the truck, and disregarding a dent in the fender and a shattered front window, it looks brand new compared to the small, European car.

I run out and the downpour roars around me. It soaks me to the bone in a matter of seconds and blockades my ears.

"What's going on?" I shout over the sirens and rain to the nearest police officer. His blue uniform is drenched and he squints his eyes.

"Three injured," He yells back. "One is en route to the hospital. He flew through the window." My gaze strays to the empty truck. "The other two are still in the car." He shouts over the deafening rain. Visibility is not apparent in this storm and I struggle my way to the obliterated Volvo. Seth is working the Jaws of Life on the driver side door.

"Can you see who is it?" Although he is next to me, I have to yell in order to prevail against the noise of the downpour. The door is dented in, far too in. Too dented. The truck hit the vehicle from the side – tearing the front off and most likely crushing the driver.

"Not yet." He shouts back. The rain makes visibility impossible and I notice that half the engine of the car is exposed. I attempt to pry it out, to find a space to crawl though. I fail and make my way around to the passenger side door. On this side, the window is cracked, tainted with red liquid.

The air smells like blood, rain and metal.

"Seth, let me try." I roar from the other side of the destroyed vehicle. He hands me the Jaws of Life and I pry my way through the dented mental, exerting brute force. Finally, I tear the mangled door open. A dog hobbles out, whimpering and the tool clatters on the asphalt as I drink in the scene.

Edward Cullen, strapped into his seatbelt, is covered in blood. His head hangs limp and there is a laceration on his forehead. It pools blood, which drips down his face, neck and seeps into the collar and shoulder of his white shirt. My eyes trail from his bloodied clothing, and to my horror, his left arm is mangled and distorted. Although only his arm suffered the speed of the truck, I have to look away. Dismemberment is not apparent, but internal damage could lead to amputation. I check his pulse and find that he is alive.

I unbuckle his seatbelt and drag him onto the asphalt. Rain pelts his unconscious body. Just then, lightning streaks across the sky and a thundercloud cracks, rumbling the ground beneath me. The downpour has already soaked him through, seeping through his clothes, making his bloodstains no longer distilled. The blood and water merge, creating a large, diluted puddle ranging from his head to his left fingertips. Lightning cracks again, illuminating the sky and the rain comes down harder.

"Get a stretcher!" I scream over my shoulder. An EMT arrives with a stretcher and I'm about to aid him in strapping Edward in when Seth shouts for me.

"Billy!" He shouts. "Billy. Billy, Jesus. Billy, it's Elizabeth." He looks at me helplessly and holds her limp body in his arms.

My world stops.

I rip my daughter from his hands and place her gently onto the wet ground. Her blue eyes stare back at me. I hold the back of her head, but when I lay it against the asphalt, my hand is covered in blood. Her hair is matted with it; the result of a severe cranial wound. I feel tears well into my eyes as I desperately search for her pulse.

"No!" I scream. "No, no, no. Oh God. No, no." And finally, I find it. It's weak but there. Suddenly, I'm surrounded by my crew and they restrain me as they force her onto a stretcher. I sit on the asphalt, soaked to the bone, unmoving. Her eyes continue to stare at me while they carry her away, but I know it's not really her staring.

…………

In the ambulance, we apply CPR. We use an AED. We use shock paddles. Her heart continues to beat, but she's not breathing independently. Thunder crackles outside again and the sirens fuse with gushing of water and the knock of Death.

In the hospital, Seth helps me with her stretcher but they don't let me enter the trauma room. My crew has to restrain me from busting the door down, but the five of us, clad in drenched uniforms, drip outside the door. Waiting. Waiting for anything to happen.

"Where is she?" I hear a loud voice. "Tell me where she is!" It's louder now and I hear a door slammed open. Edward Cullen limps out, his clothes sopping and bloodied. He has a white bandage around his head, wrapping the circumference and ending at a pressure point on his laceration. However, his arm is still mangled. It hangs unnaturally and my medical training immediately pinpoints it to a crushed bone or severed nerve endings. If the latter is true, he has no feeling or control from his shoulder to his fingertips.

"Billy, where is she?" His eyes lock on me. I don't say anything. What do I say? A doctor comes out of the trauma room Edward fled and wheels toward us.

"Mr. Cullen, _you_ need reconstructive surgery. Now. You may never have use of your arm again." He says angrily but the lawyer ignores him.

"Billy," He looks at me helplessly. At my silence, he finally understands. "Oh no… Oh God, no." He runs his right hand over his face.

"_Sir_," His doctor hisses. "Your bone's been crushed. Your nerves have been damaged. Unless you opt for amputation…" I was correct on both counts. He trails and a nurse arrives swiftly with a wheelchair.

"No. Oh my God, no." Edward talks to himself but stares at me, his eyes wide. The nurse attempts to touch his right arm but he shrugs her off.

Just then, the doctor from my daughter's trauma room walks out. My crew, Edward and myself go stiff.

"Billy," He meets my eyes briefly and then gazes at the linoleum floor. He knows my name. The whole hospital knows my name. "She's had severe cranial damage, she hit her head against the glass at a high velocity. Elizabeth has… cracked her skull… We're trying to stabilize her but the odds are low at the moment… Her brain is leaking, it's causing the tissue and skull to swell. Billy, she's comatose."

The noise that escapes my throat is inhuman. Cracked skull, brain damage, fluid leakage and _comatose_ run through my head.

"What's going to happen?" I roar and Seth and my squad have to restrain me again.

"We have to wait. Billy, I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you this, but she probably won't make it through the night. I'll be surprised if she's alive in three hours." He says quietly. I emit another animalistic noise and the corridor goes hauntingly silent.

"You need your surgery now, sir." Someone finally says gravely. I turn at the voice. Edward's doctor and the nurse push him down into the wheelchair; he doesn't struggle. Rather, he stares, bewildered at nothing. He says nothing when they wheel him away.

I fall to my knees and scream. That's the only thing left to do.

"It wasn't supposed to be her," I moan. "Not _her_."

**EPOV**

"I think he's waking up now." I hear a voice - a chiming of bells.

"He is." A second voice - soothing honey.

"Wake up, man." A third voice.

"Can you hear us, Edward?" The final voice - an angel. My heart rate increases; did I perish on the operating table? If I did, did I tell my parents I loved them recently? Did I tell Alice and Annabel I loved them? Most importantly, did I tell Bella I loved her? But that can't be precise. No, that can't be precise at all. Because how in God's name did I get into Heaven? My eyes slowly and grudgingly open to reveal Bella, Alice, Jasper and Emmett.

Bella sits on the right side of my hospital bed, her brown eyes are orbs of concern and anxiety. Alice sits on my left, albeit her giving birth only two days ago. She has a glow, a maternal aura to her and my eyes stray to her husband, Jasper. He and Emmett are at the foot of my bed, gazing at me soberly and silently.

"Hi sleepy." Bella strains a smile and I get lost in the depth of her chocolate swirls.

"Hello." I murmur drowsily. A corner of my mouth raises slightly.

"Edward," Alice declares in her pealing voice. "I should kill you for two reasons,"

"Why's that?" I respond lethargically. My words come out slurred, most likely the compliments of pain suppressants.

"Why would you _ever_ scare us like that? And secondly, Bella told me about you two," She pauses. "I'd slap you so hard if you weren't already seeing stars from the Vicodin." I grin and leisurely turn my head to the left. However, I perceive my arm for the first time. It's propped up, heavily bandaged from shoulder to elbow and is encased in a peculiar, wired contraption. I attempt to raise my arm but no motion ensues. However, what does follow is slight panic.

"What… what happened to my arm?" My eyes go ample and Jasper intercedes.

"It was damaged in the accident." He says calmly. And then I remember.

"_You aren't a bad person," I murmur while keeping my eyes on the road. We're heading to the hospital to see Leah. "In fact, I think you're an amazing person." The rain plummets down and my wipers work furiously._

_She shakes her head. "I'm a killer," She lowers her gaze. "I have to live with that for the rest of my life. It's all I'll be."_

"_No. You're going to grow up to be something phenomenal. You'll trek uncharted territories, discover a new chemical formula, win a Nobel Prize. You'll be a heartbreaker and make Seattle, and most importantly, Leah proud." I glance at her and she rests her head against the headrest._

"_Thank you for changing my life, Edward." She smiles. I think of all the times we've bickered and the times I let a thirteen-year old get under my skin._

"_You'll always have a wise mouth though." I smile and she laughs._

"_And you'll always be a jerk." _

"_See? Everything's a cycle." I muse and begin to hit the brakes lightly; an intersection is coming up._

"_What do you want to be in ten years?" She asks me curiously. I shift and hit the brakes even more._

"_I want to be…" I pause. "I want to be married to Bella. I want to have a child." I admit. Elizabeth gazes at me._

"_You've changed so much." She murmurs. _

"_You said I'll always be a jerk," I grin. She laughs. "What do you want to be?" I ask and finally come to a stop at the intersection. The light is red._

"_Leah's sister." I nod quietly and the light goes green. I accelerate gradually, and we're in the middle of the intersection when a truck, one which has lost traction control due to the storm, barrels in from the left and slams my car. The force of the collision causes my head to snap to the right, and I'm about to aid Elizabeth when I hear her head slam the window. The impact, followed by Sam's yelps, has cracked my passenger side window. It's a spider web of blood and I attempt to unbuckle my seatbelt when I begin to notice the simultaneous warmth and numbness. The warmth, my blood, begins to pool on my clothing. This is when I see my arm: mangled, bloodied, trapped. Helpless and pinned, the darkness gradually seeps in from every corner, eventually enveloping me; it swallows me whole as the scent of blood and death fills my car._

"Elizabeth," I struggle lethargically. "How is she? Where is she? I have to see her, I have to see her." I struggle to move but Emmett pins me down.

"Edward, you can't leave this room." He looks me in the eye and Bella lightly places a hand on my shoulder.

"Her brain is still bleeding, but she's a bit more stabilized. She's beginning to breath independently but they have to…" Bella trails off but recomposes herself. "Involuntarily feed her. There's a tube down her esophagus at the moment, but she's comatose. What can you do? They already operated on her… They shaved her head and made an incision so they could drain the blood and fluid –"

"Through a tube," I finish for her. She nods and this is when I notice her eyes are swollen and streaked with red; she's been crying. "Don't cry," I say softly. "Bells, don't cry." Her eyes prick and she shakes her head vigorously.

"I'm okay, it's okay. We need to focus on your arm, Edward." She blinks back her tears. I gaze at her forlornly and blow her a small, apologetic kiss.

"It's my fault," I say quietly. "I was driving. It's my fault."

"It wasn't," Emmett shakes his head. "The news station just got wind of the police report and they're saying it was entirely the truck's fault."

"No, it's still my fault." I shake my head. If she dies, I won't be able to live with myself. Alice and Jasper glance at one another.

"Edward, there was nothing you could do about it," Jasper says soothingly. My anxiety begins to cease and I sigh heavily. "You can't blame yourself." A serenity, Jasper's creation, permeates the hospital atmosphere and I furrow my brow.

"Edward. Your arm." Alice says calmly and I remember the severity of its appearance. I turn to her.

"What happened?" I blink.

"The crash crushed your bone and damaged your nerve endings. They attempted reconstructive surgery. Edward, your bone may never repair itself, and because of that, they had to place in about seven metal rods. Some screws and plates are drilled in there too." I stare at my arm; my robotic arm. After gulping I muffle a moan and pat my right hand around, trying to locate Bella's. She grabs my hand and quietly holds it.

"Can I move it?" I finally ask my sister. Her husband responds.

"Hopefully the nerve reparation was successful, so you'll have feeling and sensory in your arm now. Obviously you can't feel it now, you're on more medication than a rockstar." Jasper states in a tranquil tone. I blink heavily.

"Why am I on so much medication?" I slur. Jasper shrugs.

"Your father opposed it, he blew up at the anesthesiologist."

"My father got angry at someone?" I furrow my brow. Alice emits several peeling giggles.

"Oh, he destroyed them, Edward. It was exciting, he never got mad when we were kids."

"I know, that's historical." I close my eyes momentarily.

"Edward, anyway, you'll probably need intense physical therapy to regain control of your arm." Jasper continues solemnly.

"Do tell me the point," I mumble. "It's not even my anatomical composition anymore. It's… metal." I reopen my eyes.

"You can be like Robo-Cop! Or you can get cavity searched every time you fail an airport security examination." Emmett grins. I crack a smile and my company musters giggles.

"Cavity searched? Lovely." I muse and Emmett laughs heartily.

"Hey, the metal detector will keep going off and they won't know the reason." My gaze trails to my left arm and I furrow my brow.

Bella rubs soothing circles into my hand. Metal rods replace my bones; a robot, a machine. Gritting my teeth, I attempt to wriggle my left fingers but nothing occurs. I attempt again, and again, and again, but my endeavors fail. My limb stays in its immobilization contraption. I give a final attempt, and to my contentment, my ring finger twitches ever so slightly.

Bella squeezes my right hand encouragingly and the three others have smiles plastered onto their faces.

"You're already on the road to recovery." Alice beams. I open my mouth to speak but a stray thought enters my mind: speaking of recovery, why is she not resting?

"Alice, why the hell aren't you currently quiescent as well? You gave birth two days ago." I mumble.

"Oh please, don't pity me. I'm sturdier than you, I bet." She challenges and I'm prepping myself for a sibling altercation when Jasper, once again, intercedes.

"We've been visiting Annabel. They have to keep her here for a month because she was premature." Again, the room is tranquil. That is, until a nurse struts into the room. Her eyes survey the four others and then finally land on mine; she nearly drops her tray of syringes. The nurse recomposes herself and clears her throat.

"How are you feeling, Mr. Cullen?" She coos and sashays toward me. I sigh.

"Drowsy." I murmur and suppress and eye roll. Her gaze narrows in on Bella's hand clasping my own and the nurse turns to her.

"Excuse me Miss, but it would be better if physical patient interaction is kept to a minimum." She sets her tray down and Bella snaps her hand back after furiously blushing. I attempt to search for her hand again but my world is downy. Before I take Bella's hand in my own the nurse uncouthly thrusts a syringe into my face.

"This will put you to sleep." She smiles wide. I exhale resignedly and she blinks rapidly. Her eyes are plates, but it is Alice who interferes.

"She can hold his hand if she wants to." My sister snaps at the nurse. The nurse, taken aback, stands upright and raises an eyebrow at her.

"She can't." The nurse says sternly. Alice stands. Although she is only 4'11, I cringe regarding the events about to take place.

"Why not?" Alice crosses her arms. Jasper attempts to sit his wife down, but fails as Emmett holds his arm in place. I snatch Bella's hand again and she smiles lovingly at me. She's so beautiful…

"He's recovering, she can't touch him." The nurse scowls.

"That's not even legitimate. Go back to med school and actually pass your exams rather than sleeping with your professors." Alice hisses and Emmett erupts into laughter. He's roaring and even Jasper has to suppress a chuckle.

"_Excuse_ me?" She seethes and then turns to me. "Sir," She begins in a pleasant tone. "Would you like a booster seat for your," She looks Alice up and down. "Pixie? Daughter?"

Poor girl. She has no idea what's coming to her.

"Daughter? _Daughter?_ Bitch, I _have_ a daughter. Stop trying to get into my _brother's_ pants when you just insinuated he's a grandfather. Unless you like it like _that_ down there. Besides, that's not yours to think about; say hi to his fiancée," Alice points to Bella, who is beet red. "So I suggest you inject your medication and then leave this room, or before you know it, you'll have another thing coming to you. I own half this city, I'll ruin you faster than you can screw your boss." Emmett is doubled over, in tears, from laughter. His guffaws and gasps of air rattle the windows and I have to choke back hilarity a well.

The nurse's jaw is on the floor. After what seems hours, she finally recomposes herself and silently proceeds to inject me with the sleep medication.

"Thank you." I say politely. She stares at me and her lip begins trembling. Before anyone can say anything else, she extracts the needle, cleans up the vicinity and exits the room, with her tray, hastily.

"You're amazing, Alice." Bella breathes. There's a twinkle of amusement in her gorgeous eyes.

"She was so _rude_." My sister huffs.

"Alice," Emmett clutches his ribs. "Alice, oh, man. That was epic." He throws his head back and shakes his head.

"I'm not his fiancée, you lied about that." Bella points out across the hospital bed to Alice.

"You practically are. Whatever, she needed a good slap to the face." Alice fluffs her raven bob and Jasper smiles adorningly at his wife. The thing that Alice doesn't know is that we _are_ nearly engaged; half, anyway. Bella has the same thoughts as I and I shoot her a sluggish smile. She squeezes my hand in comprehension and the room goes silent for a few minutes.

"I have to see Elizabeth." I finally say, destroying the hush. And on cue, my father walks in with Rebecca and Billy Black in tow.

"Son," He disregards the formalities. "How are you?" His voice is gentle yet concerned.

"Somnolent, anesthetized, culpable." I slur; the medication is beginning to circulate my bloodstream. Bella still holds my hand.

"Not culpable," He shakes his head. "You've done nothing wrong." My eyes shift to the Blacks and I feel the back of my eyes prick.

"I am so sorry," I croak out. "I'm so sorry." They nod quietly.

"It wasn't your fault." Rebecca says inaudibly. It's silent for a moment.

"How is she?" I ask quietly.

"She's a bit better, but not by much. Tonight will be a struggle." Billy responds vapidly. I detect that the couple have been crying profoundly.

"Does Leah know?" I struggle to fight the sleep medication, to stay conscious. At this, Rebecca begins to weep and Billy holds her to his chest.

"Yes." His voice wavers and I realize that they're potentially going to lose both their daughters. They'd accepted and embraced for the loss of one, but not two. Losing one child would be unthinkable, indescribable, heartbreaking. Losing two? The aftermath would be inexpressible. I consider all this, and finally apprehend that I'll be damned if one doesn't make it out alive.

"I have power of attorney for Elizabeth," I begin slowly and meet my father's warm, blue eyes. "And you are to issue that Leah needs that kidney."

…………

Two days later, they discharge me. I have a train of stitches beginning from my shoulder to my elbow; I look like Frankenstein. Despite the grisly plains of weaved, black thread, it is hardly visible due to my cast and sling.

Two days later, Leah Black undergoes her organ transplant. Elizabeth nearly passed away during the major invasive surgery, yet by some imperceptible miracle, she survived. Leah's renal failure is slightly improving while Elizabeth is still comatose, yet stabilized.

Two days later, Bella moves in with me. Her apartment lease expired, and instead of renewing it, she showed up at my door with several cardboard boxes. Because she's stubborn, she claims that 'someone in my condition cannot live alone', that is, until I asked her why she didn't renew the lease.

"_I want Rose to live with Emmett…" She trails off. "And I have no where to live, so I figured you'd let me in. If I help you out, you can feed me… And love me." Before I can open my mouth, she shoulders past me, into my apartment, with her luggage._

"I feel so pathetic." I run my right hand through my hair. I enter my den, from the kitchen, to find Bella reading a book. She looks up and blinks a few times.

"Why?" She tilts her head to the side.

"I need both you _and_ Sam to help me. I'm useless." I sigh. Sam trots to my side and I pat his neck. Bella puts her book down.

"You are definitely more stubborn than I." She huffs while raising herself from the white sofa. I gaze forlornly at my sling and she approaches me. Bella wraps her arms around my waist and I run my right hand down her cascading, mahogany tresses.

"You really don't have to do this." I sigh.

"Do what?" She muffles into my chest.

"Live with me because I'm crippled." She pulls back to gaze at me. I succumb to the depth of her chocolate brown eyes.

"I decided to live with you because I love you." Her gaze is steady and my heart soars.

"I love you more." I grin and kiss her deeply.

That night, when Bella decides I should go to bed, she has to help me change. She's standing on the bed, attempting to defeat my height. I stand with my back to her, and as she's gently undoing my sling, I hum an old tune: her lullaby. She stops her motion and then wraps her arms around my neck from behind.

"I loved that song." She sighs.

"I suppose I could play the imaginary piano for you." I smile. She hums a bit and then sighs.

"Was it traumatizing for you?" She murmurs.

"What?" I respond lightly.

"Getting into another car accident." She says somberly. My mind reels back to when I was eighteen, to when I had head trauma and was perpetually plagued with epilepsy.

"I wasn't thinking about myself," I say quietly. "When I heard Elizabeth hit her head, I thought to myself that she might not make it. And that my only priority was to save her."

"But she did make it." Bella rests her chin on my good shoulder.

"Barely." I croak. She soothingly lays her cheek on the same shoulder, but after awhile of silence, lifts it to continue undoing my sling. When it's off my arm, she lays it on the bed and proceeds to take my shirt off.

"Ah, the exceptional benefits of being crippled," I grin jokingly, changing the tone. "Bella, you don't have to force my clothes off, you could of just asked…" I trail and she flicks the back of my head.

"You –" But she stops. "Oh no! Oh no, I'm sorry," She begins to repeatedly kiss the back of my head. "I forgot about your epilepsy. Oh no, Edward's brain, don't do that. I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She continues to kiss my head and I laugh loudly.

"Bella, silly woman, it's involuntary." I turn around and catch her lips, mid-kiss. She pulls away and blushes.

"Still… Sorry." She pats the side of my head. I shake my head and smile.

"It pleases me to know your eccentric persona still is borderline mental." I joke.

She scoffs. "And does it please you to know I hate you?"

"Does it please you to know I love you?" I counter. She attempts to hide a smile.

"Does it please you to know I guess I kind of love you?"

"Guessing you somewhat love me is decent, I suppose." I sit on the bed and crane my neck up to meet her gaze. She flops onto the bed next to me.

"I'm going to kill you in your sleep," She mutters and then kisses my cheek lovingly. "Love you, Edward."

"Love you, Isabella."

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**I am so exhausted by I type most of that up on a train ride. **

**Hoorah! Hope you like it :) I tried to fluff it up a bit to balance the sadness**

**Thanks so much for reading, I love you all. Every single one of you **

**To those who helped me out: you know who you are and you're amazing people**

**kisseskisseskisses, JennyCullen44**


	19. Au Revoir, Dors Bien

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

I don't sleep well. Jolting awake, sweat trickles down my spine and my eyes frantically scan the vicinity in a clockwise fashion. Ordinarily, I sleep through the night, yet this is an exception. I prop myself upright via my right arm and this is when it instigates. The pain.

Daggers of fire swim through the veins of my left arm, causing my teeth to clench. I blink rapidly, attempting to overlook the embers of pain. When I recuperate my thoughts again, I apprehend that Bella is not next to me.

"Bella?" I mumble, confused. Swiveling my head around, I get up from my bed and search for her. She's nowhere. Dazed from the pain, I grab the orange vials of medication on my bedside table and fumble with reading the labels in the darkness. I glance briefly at the clock: 2:07 AM.

After locating the appropriate vial, I unscrew the lid, pop a couple pills and chase them with a water bottle. Then, I groggily search for her once again. As the minutes pass and I still don't know her whereabouts, an ominous feeling settles into the pit of my stomach.

What if she decided to leave? To leave me, without telling me? _Of course_, I think darkly. Fleeing in the middle of the night is an efficient and plausible way of leaving without a goodbye. Moments later, a combination of fatigue, pain and rejection cause me to give in to sleep. Just as I'm about to nestle my dejected self back into bed, I hear a single cough resonating from my balcony.

Bella? I glide to the plate of glass, find the handle to the door and swing it open. Bella is sitting, crossed-legged, on the concrete of my balcony – a cigarette in hand. She's wearing what she wore to bed: a fitted, blue t-shirt and pajama shorts. She hasn't aged, she hasn't relegated to anything less than an angel. Bella still looks eighteen, independent and youthful. When she sees me, she jumps five feet in the air.

"S-sorry." She stutters meekly, her brown eyes are large. I chuckle and ruffle my hair with my right hand.

"What are you doing, love?" I tilt my head. She brings the cigarette to her lips and takes a drag.

"I couldn't sleep." The smoke whistles through her gritted teeth and she blinks twice in a jittery fashion. At this, I seat myself next to her. The autumn night heat cakes my shirtless torso; there's no breeze.

"You still smoke?" I rub my eyes. Smoking is chronic in law school. Bella blows out the last of her smoke and shakes her head.

"I was anxious and edgy. Sleep didn't help. I used this as a last resort." She sighs, holds up her cigarette and drags it across the concrete; leaving an ember slash mark. Bella continues to draw on the ground, using her wasted bud as a utensil. This is when I rest my head on her thin shoulder.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" I murmur and close my eyes. The atmosphere is thick with the smell of sweet smoke and strawberries.

"Just… everything." Bella says softly. I reopen my eyes to find her large, gorgeous ones locked on mine. The moonlight is the only source of luminance and it washes over both our bodies, making them ethereal. Moonlight dances across her face and I continue to gaze upward at this goddess.

"Do explain." I crack a smile. At this, she smiles as well and brings up a hand to comb through my hair.

"I've just been thinking about everything," She sighs and absentmindedly twirls a lock of my hair around her forefinger. "About the trial, the crash, the Blacks…" Bella scratches my scalp lightly. "…Poor Elizabeth… And," She coughs, "I've been thinking about us." She unfurls the lock of hair.

"I have too." I lift my head from her shoulder and she continues to gaze at me. Moonlight washes over her face, making her appear as porcelain perfection.

**BPOV**

"I have too." His voice, fluid and musical, rings through my ears. He lifts his head to gaze at me and his green eyes, which glitter in the moonlight, cause my heart to skip a few beats. Not only does it make his emerald eyes sparkle, but it casts a lighting which proves to the world he's sculpted out of marble.

"You should probably get back to bed." I snap out of my trance and attempt to change the subject. I begin to uncross my legs, but he cracks a crooked grin.

"I've got a better idea." He muses fluidly. Edward, albeit the confinement of his left arm, tackles me with his right one. It knocks me on my back, yet he's careful to keep my head from hitting the ground.

"What are you doing?" I giggle. My hair, which is a mess, spills over the edge of his balcony. And then I stop breathing. Adonis is peering down at me with eyes as green as ocean water. Adonis also smiles crookedly, and not only that, he has his left arm in a cast. He lays himself on the upper half of my body and continues to grin wickedly.

"I feel like I never told you enough." He murmurs and rests his chin on my chest. I attempt to lift my head off the ground, but because of the self-conscious notion I'd probably have multiple chins, I plop it back down.

"Told me what enough?" I smile at the night sky. The moon is large, yet Seattle's bright lights prevent the stars from shining their true potential. I drift into another world at another time: Forks, my senior year. Replace the concrete with grass, the skyscraper's lights with stars and planets and rewind the clock eight years. His cool breath hits the base of my neck steadily, causing a shiver to run down my spine although the air is thick with autumn heat.

"That I love you. I never told you enough." He inches his way up, planting his cold lips on my neck. I inhale shakily.

"But you did," I counter, yet I'm floating in a different world; a world of Edward. "You always told me you loved me." My eyelids flutter.

"Love," He corrects. His lips are now on my jaw line. "It's not past tense." I can't help but smile blissfully and I suddenly wish we were back home - in Forks.

"Don't you want to go back?" I murmur dreamily.

He knows what I'm talking about. "To Forks? Of course, I've been gone from home for too long." His lips are now on my cheek, ice cold. My heart rate goes haywire and I attempt to inhale to re-stabilize it. I'm out of conversation, and he brushes his lips over mine. I jolt, electrocuted. However, I try desperately to regain control.

"I thought you were a gentleman." I tease. He hovers a mere inch from my lips and smiles slightly. It's all very overwhelming. His scent, his breath, his smile, all so close and yet so far cast a dizzying effect. My head spins and I begin to breath heavily as the sparks between us ignite a fantasy inferno.

"Oh, but I am." He grins and pulls away. My woozy intoxication is suddenly replaced with irritation. I huff and prop myself upright. I need him. Now.

"Edward," I sigh, exasperated. "Stop _dazzling_ me and then doing nothing about it." I give him a pointed look and he raises his eyebrows in an amused manner.

"But you questioned my behavior." A smile plays at the corner of his lips and I purse mine before rolling my eyes.

"Come on, Edward, I'm putting you to bed." I sigh, irate. I begin to sit myself upright when he presses the tip of his nose to mine. All coherent thinking stops and I'm thrust into a world of Edward once again.

"Is this better?" He teases. My response, the batting of my eyelashes, is enveloped in silence. Edward chuckles, and to my excess irritation, drags the tip of his nose across my cheek.

"Seriously? You're ridiculous." A small laugh escapes my throat.

He chuckles. "Okay, Bella. I'm putting _you_ to bed." Edward continues his jester façade. I scowl slightly.

"Edward, I refuse to be entirely subservient to any whim of yours. We're not dominant submissive, you know." I cross my arms. His eyes light up.

"So you're willing to engage in a petty, pseudo-intellectual psychological debate in the heart of the night, yet you refuse to sleep? That you, the quote-on-quote lesser and subordinate role who lives under oppression of my overwhelming sadomasochism has decided to defy my dominance?" His tone drips heavily with sarcasm and mockery, both of which are masked by his gorgeous, crooked smile. He wins. He always wins.

"You were always too smart." I roll my eyes and sigh.

"I believe I was the one who asked you to tutor me." I can't hide a smile at this.

"You only asked because it was the only way I'd talk to you." I curl my knees to my chest, wrap my arms around them and rest my chin.

He inches closer. "I tried everything to get you to look at me." He admits, tilting his head toward me.

"Oh? You, Mister Track Captain? Wait, wait, weren't you Prom King too? That sounds about right, Mister Piano Solo." I smile into my knees.

He scoffs. "And you happened to be the unattainable girl in homeroom who wouldn't give a poor sap the time of day. You were different, intelligent and stunning. Quite a breath of fresh air in that place, on the contrary. And I believe you were Prom Queen as well." He grins and pecks my cheek lightly. Chagrin washes over my face - setting my cheeks ablaze - minus the spot where his cool lips touched.

"I was only that ridiculous social title because of you." I finally mumble after regaining myself. In high school, our senior superlative was _Best Couple._

He shakes his head. "People loved you. In fact, they adored you. You were helpful –"

"If they needed an answer to a calculus question." I rest my cheek on my knee, enabling me to gaze at his beauty. He gives me a pointed look.

"Are you finished?" He smiles. "Anyway, _you_ carried _me_ through high school."

"Shut up." I roll my eyes and lift my head.

"I never thought you'd ask." He beams and then leans in to kiss me deeply. How I survived the aftermath of my heart imploding, I do not know.

**EPOV**

I wake up again to find a man on the ceiling. Not a man, but not a creature. A demon? An angel? He stares at me until the shadows in the room shift and he is no longer there. Although I'm too aroused to drift back to sleep, I glance briefly at the clock. 4:46 AM. Tick, tick, tick. The ticking of the clock rings throughout my ears; drumming, buzzing, seeping to the core of my brain. It thrums, rhythmically setting my head ablaze.

I pinch the bridge of my nose, attempting to subdue the pulsation of pain. Gradually, after moments, the thrumming relocates. My left arm is now enveloped in a dull, throbbing sensation, and to my irritation, I can do nothing to alleviate it. Out of defeat, I nestle my head into the pillow and once again, gaze at the man on the ceiling. He's not a man, but a shadow – a demon – which follows me. He winks, causing a shudder to trickle down my spine.

This is when I realize Bella is curled up at the edge of my bed. Usually, she sleeps inward. Usually, she unconsciously clings on to me. Usually, she embraces the middle; the core. Never the edge. Perturbed by the whispering shadows, I immediately imagine she's dead. Directly after, an arduous sentiment settles itself into the pit of my conscious. Are the melancholy thoughts the products of posttraumatic stress?

I peer through the darkness and distinguish the curves of Bella's body. She sleeps on her side, and her silhouette rises and falls in correspondence to the slope of her neck, her hips, her legs… Her shoulder blades, gaunt under her thin, pallid skin, appear as angel wings in the milky light of the moon. Maybe she's not even Bella, but something else. At this, I reach out to touch her and begin to silently pray that I evaded the fiend of posttraumatic stress disorder from my crash.

And then I scowl to myself. What am I thinking? In sleep, Bella breathes so lightly it's impossible to distinguish if she's even alive. I cautiously inch myself closer to her, my jittery state entirely consumes me. Before I raise my hand to gently place on her waist, she stirs slightly. I exhale heavily, relief washing out the fear. However, she begins to whimper and I become vigilant once again.

"Edward…" She murmurs, her voice as light as a feather.

"Bella?" I quizzically coax. She turns over in the bed and unconsciously faces me. Her ruby lips are pulled into a faint smile, and her eyelids, a pale purple flutter.

"Edward." She repeats. My name slips silkily through her teeth.

This is when I remember.

Bella talks in her sleep. Not only this, but she has night terrors. On cue, her angelic face twists into a contorted countenance of fear.

"No… N-no…" She stutters and her dormant body shifts. Out of an instinct nearly a decade old, I place my free hand on her flushed cheek. The coolness of my fingertips greedily extracts the heat from her cheek and she stops stirring. Her face untwists itself, eventually panning out to appear calm and tranquil once again. A moment later, my hand still on her face, she unconsciously nestles herself into my open arms – well, arm.

"What ever it is, I'm here." I mumble, reassuringly, into her hair. At this, Bella sighs softly. Without any other indications of her dream's monsters, I allow myself to float between the lines of consciousness and the seductive state of sleep. With her mouth near my ear, I can scarcely hear her breathing – yet it's there. Her breathing, along with the ticking of the clock and the internal thrumming of my arm rhythmically attempt to lull myself into a dream.

"I love you." Bella sighs, clear as day. I reopen my eyes, glance down at the beauty nestled into my chest and crack a smile. My gaze shifts to the ceiling. I see the man, my shadow demon, glaring. I grin wickedly at him and he hisses in defeat. Finally, the thrumming in my arm subdues and the dark, morose thoughts wash off from the conscious of my mind; slipping into the shadows.

"I love you more." I avert my gaze to the woman I don't deserve. Her lips stretch into a faint smile.

Then the man on the ceiling vanishes.

**Leah POV**

"Hi Elizabeth." I murmur to her and hold her hand. Light brown peach fuzz grows on her head as a tube protrudes from the cranium. Filled with blood and pus, it snakes down her neck. Her face is bruised and swollen from the internal hemorrhaging, as the tube is meant to extract excess fluid from her bleeding brain. She has a second tube down her esophagus, the tube that feeds her. My sister also has a central venous catheter protruding near her heart – the subclavien vein to be exact. This is used to inject cardio medications to ensure the beating of her heart. A fourth tube, a urinal catheter, protrudes from the side of her stomach to extract urine from her one, remaining kidney. A fifth, an oxygen tube, protrudes out from her nostrils. The lines, all five, lead to either a tub of excess cranial fluid, a bedpan, an oxygen tank, medication or food.

Recently, her heart has been weakening. Eventually it will falter, giving her very little time to live. She needs a heart transplant.

"Stay in there," I quietly encourage my struggling sister. I remain tranquil, yet I cringe. Is this how I always looked? "I'll always love you."

They discharged me two weeks after my transplant. To everyone's amazement, my renal failure subdued and according to Dr. Cullen, I'm a walking miracle. Shortly after the transplant, my white blood cell count dropped, thus sending my leukemia into recession. Even after this month, there's been no sign of it. Of course it's still there, but at this stage, it should have killed me by now. Being a doctor, he says it was the ATRA, but I know the real reason.

After months and months, I no longer have to wear a hospital gown or watch wall television. My clothes no longer fit, but that's okay. Nothing fits anymore. I lift up an old shirt that's too large - it hangs off my rail-thin body - to gaze at the scar on the lower corner of my back. Behind this scar is my sister's kidney - the kidney that saved my life. Sometimes, if the lighting is right, the stitches seem to spell out her name. The black thread curls, in crude script, to imprint her name into my side. _Liz_. People don't see it, but I do. How couldn't I?

To come home to a house without Elizabeth is a peculiar feeling. I was always the one in the hospital, I was always the one dying. Now, Death isn't interested in me any longer. His eyes are set on my sister, the sister who spent her life trying to save me. Even on her deathbed did she string together a miracle and save my life. But the truth is, both of us were not meant to die. No, not both, only one. Death couldn't care less which one of us it is, he only cares that he takes one of us away.

I think about that lawyer of hers, the lawyer who tried to give her a life. In a way, _I'm_ the one in debt to him. He defied my parents in the face of controversy and attempted to give both my sister and I what we desired. It almost worked. I wanted death and she wanted life.

But here's another truth. The moment I was granted the opportunity live is the moment I wanted to die. Fourteen of my sixteen years have been spent fighting for my life. For the two years without APL, I wonder what life was like. I wonder what my parents were like, what Jacob was like, what living was like. And I have that chance now. But I don't want it.

You see, I'm not interested in living anymore. My parents won't know how to change. Jacob is forever tainted, troubled by the tragedies of his family. And most of all, Elizabeth will come back to haunt me.

The third truth is I'd rather come back to haunt her. Why? Because I owe her. My sister, my baby sister, was conceived to save my life. Now that she has, she may exit this world having completed her mission, yet I refuse to let it come full circle. I refuse to let my sister die, only having experienced life as a subservient tool for my own.

This is why I owe her with everything I have.

I suppose it could be argued that I've decided to waste life – that the moment I overcome my largest obstacle I want to end everything. But the way I see it, there's nothing left for me here. Everything I need is up there. I suppose it could be called quitting. That's okay though, sometimes I'd just like to sleep and never wake up again.

When you die, what age are you in Heaven? I think I'd want to be seventeen, to reach for the age where I'm completely rid of my illness. Where my hair can grow long again and where I can be free. I wonder how old Tyler is. Maybe around the same age, so his hair can grow back too. Is he waiting for me? I think about my grandparents, our puppy, Quil, who died long ago. Are they all waiting for me?

I pull out a photo, one so used that it's beginning to fade. I unfold it and smooth down the creases.

The photo is of Tyler and I. We're both slanted, the result of him unnaturally thrusting the camera in both of our faces and clicking the shutter button too quickly. My hair is long, about shoulder-length. My eyes are closed, another result of bad timing. The flash washes out my pallid face and causes my pale, blonde hair to appear white. My lips are stretched into a large smile and my thin arms are placed lovingly around his neck. Although I look like I'd been walking around with the plague, Tyler is nothing short of lovely. Unlike me, his eyes are open. Although mostly brown, his hazel eyes glint specks of green from the flash. They're creased and the lines of laughter around his eyes compliment the wide, white grin plastered on his face. Although the flash washes out his golden bridge, I can still distinguish each freckle. He has a buzz cut in this photo, and because we both had hair, I like to think we were normal.

Sometimes, on a lazy Sunday when I begin to forget how many lines of laughter framed his eyes, I pull out this photo. Or if I forget the exact number of freckles which trekked across his pointed nose, or the way his right cheek cratered into a dimple. His tattoo isn't visible, yet I remember it like it was my own.

_Carpe diem_ sat in small, black script on his wrist. I'd never forget this, no matter how lazy the day is. If sleep renders my mind, I can even imagine the perfect, inked script on my own wrist.

"_Come on, get one, Leah." He laughed while sitting in the chair. The tattoo artist was swabbing his wrist with a cotton swab. I wrinkled my nose. I was only fifteen at the time, and to a fifteen year old this was beyond rebellious. However, I remedied and pardoned him because he was seventeen. _

"_My mom would kill me." I crossed my arms uncomfortably as the tattoo artist began to ink his wrist. Tyler looked at me with a steady, leveled gaze._

"_Let's hope she's the one that does." _

I sigh, exasperated. Exhaustion envelops me and I sit down at the desk Elizabeth and I both share. Her side of the room is empty. I pluck a pen from the mug, tear off a piece of paper from a notebook and begin to write.

_To you, my sister,_

_I owe you more than you can imagine. I owe you with my life. If you wake up, then you'll probably know I'm gone by now. Please don't grieve, please know I'll still be there. Hopefully, willing, I'll leave you surprises. I'm not really sure how the angels and ghost deal works, but I'll watch over you. Remind Mommy and Daddy every single day I'll forever love them. Tell them not to grieve either. And please, Liz, get Jacob help. Tell Dr. Cullen he's a wonderful man, and that I am sorry. I know he's grieved for me on multiple occasions and I need you to tell him that I am so sorry to have dragged him into this. Also, tell him to thank his son. Thank Edward for me, I have a feeling he's going to continue to be there. And this is my reminder to you: you'll always be my sister and I'll always be yours. This is for you. Take my heart._

_PS: I'll tell all the people in Heaven how grand you are. I'm sure it'll be okay, I'm not longer scared. Don't worry for me._

Some words are smudged from the tears. They trickle down from the corners of my eyes and I have to suppress a hiccup from crying too hard. I scan the letter at least a hundred times, the words blurring and becoming clear after a blink. After wiping the tears away with the back of my hand, I finally sign off on it.

_Love now, forever and always, Leah. Your big sister._

I place it, neatly folded, on her pillow.

**EPOV – One Week Later**

It's raining. Of course it is, who anticipated sunshine? I hold the umbrella over Bella's head as she stares vacuously at the soaked ground. Leaves crackle under her feet as she attempts to stay warm, and I curse the confinement of my left arm. If not for my cast and sling, my arm would be around her. She already has my coat around her shoulders, and it drapes down mid-thigh. Absentmindedly, she hugs the black coat closer to her body as the chilly, autumn drizzle comes down around us.

"Hey," I say quietly. "Holding up?" She turns her head toward me and I strain a smile for her. Her beautiful eyes, enveloped in sadness, trail from my cast to meet my gaze.

She nods once and attempts a smile as well. "Yeah," She says brokenly. "Are you?" Bella steps toward me and begins to shiver slightly. The chilled drizzle drips from the edges of the umbrella. I long to wrap my arms around her, yet all I can manage is to kiss her forehead lightly. When my lips touch her skin, she closes her eyes. I linger, attempting everything in my power to assuage her, and then touch my forehead to hers. We stay like this a moment or two, both wishing we were somewhere else.

Leah Black died five days ago of a cranial aneurysm. She died in her sleep, the most peaceful way, I would imagine. Post-mortem tomography indicated she died instantly, which in its own sense was a blessing. Apparently, her hemorrhaging began the day after her hospital discharge and went unnoticed.

_Take my heart_ was meant it in the most literal sense possible. After Leah's letter was read, it was eerily apparent she knew about her fate. Yet how? Cranial hemorrhaging is not apparent unless detected with a CT scan, and yet she knew and _accepted_. Elizabeth received a heart transplant – one from her sister. Shortly after, her condition improved. Although still comatose, Elizabeth's own hemorrhaging has ceased significantly. Hopefully, cranial drainage won't be necessary any longer. This time, the roles were reversed in who saved who.

"Sixteen…" Bella murmurs. "Sixteen years old, Edward." She gazes upward at me, her brown eyes layered in tears.

"I know." I sigh. I have no assuaging words.

"It wasn't even the leukemia that killed her." Bella shakes her head and averts her gaze to the sopping ground.

"I think she intended for it to be that way," I gaze vapidly at a tree trunk behind her. "She wouldn't let her condition get her, reasoning why she lived fourteen years longer than she was supposed to –"

"But then the APL didn't get her, so why did she stop fighting?"

"I don't think," I shift my gaze to Bella. Her eyes are brimming with tears. "She or her body knew how to live a life without pain."

The drizzling turns into a steady rain just as the dam to Bella's tears break. Unable to wipe them away, I kiss them away.

"You're right," She says in a small voice. "And now she can finally rest." Bella sniffles and brings her hand to my sling. She runs her fingers over my own, immobilized ones.

"Yes." I state, attempting to remain unemotional. She continues to run her hand across my casted arm.

"Does it hurt?" She finally asks quietly and looks up at me with her large, haunting eyes.

"Not that badly." I attempt to move the arm, although my fourth finger is the only appendage that creates motion. I'm able to wriggle it slightly, yet it's better than nothing. Bella notices and silently takes my finger within her hand. She begins to drum lightly across it.

"Is this hurting you?" She questions and continues to drum. I shake my head. After a moment, she lets go of my finger and wraps my coat closer to her.

"Stop blaming yourself." She finally says quietly. At her words, I wince.

"How can't I?" I stare hard at my shoes.

"You knew that both of them wouldn't make it." She sighs and fixes my tie. She doesn't meet my gaze, but she smoothes the tie down on my chest.

I close my eyes and it's silent except for the rain.

"I love you." I finally say softly after a minute. I reopen my eyes and sigh simultaneously. Bella gazes at me, and then raises her hand to my forehead. She lightly traces my fading laceration. I don't want her to be preoccupied with death, as I know her thoughts are swimming with anguish and woe.

She furrows her brow. "I love you too." Bella distantly says. She withdraws her hand and presses her fingertips to her eyelids after she closes them.

"I don't know what to say." My attempts at lifting her spirits have been futile. I've never witnessed Bella this detached.

"I'm not sure how to say this…" She mumbles. Everything inside me stills. I hold my breath, anticipating.

"Say it fast." I slip through my teeth. She looks up me.

"I don't want to do law anymore."

"And what will you do?" I exhale.

"I think I'll shoot for an educational degree." She stares at me, awaiting my response. I crane to kiss her temple.

"Thank God. Teaching suits you better." I retract and fail to linger.

She nods. "I'm tired of being a legal server."

"Because they don't have hearts? Disregarding you of course, you slipped past the system." I sigh. She can't hide a small smile.

"You have a heart… It's in there… somewhere." She jokes.

"Oh my, that hurts." I smirk. She smiles, close-lipped, and places a hand over my heart.

"You have a heart." Bella then rests her head against my chest.

"No, I don't." I shake my head.

"It's not healthy to keep blaming yourself." Bella sighs, exasperated.

I shake my head again. "I don't have one because you have it." She's silent.

"I won't take it," Suddenly, my heart rips. No, it's obliterated into a thousand, fractured pieces. I take a step back from her. She gazes at me and takes a step forward; eliminating the space I created. "Because it would mean you have to die."

**Rebecca POV**

There are no words to describe the loss of a child. Sixteen years is a period which flashes by, quick as a meteorite, in the history of time. One day, you change diapers. The next, you buy tampons. The day after, you take their prom picture. Leah was sick for a very long time – too long. Although we expected her death on a daily basis, the impact of the actuality slammed us from the side. She died in her sleep - peacefully. I'm thankful she didn't feel pain, one of the few moments in her life where she didn't.

Yet, how does the parent not feel pain?

I remember the day of her birth. When I gazed at her face, my husband's clone, an instant bond was formed. When we took the newborn and blonde Leah Kimberly Black home, Jacob was inquisitive two-year old. It was a sunny day.

I remember her first word. _Mama_. The sound of her high, small voice all those years ago slashes my heart. I'll never hear her voice again.

I remember her first steps. Billy had been sitting on the sofa, watching a Mariners game while our two children were playing on the ground together. Leah uprooted herself, grinned at her father and took her first step toward him.

I remember when she was first diagnosed with APL. She was two-years old. Jacob was four. Billy and I had stared at one another until our eyes bled. Our daughter? Our bubbly, cheerful toddler had cancer?

I remember every moment in her life, yet I focused so much on her life that I do not know how to turn to my other children. Jacob has been disconnected and my other daughter… Elizabeth… Elizabeth is dying. I can no longer look at Billy. In his face, I see Leah's. He's a walking ghost. But what is there to do? What the hell do you do?

**Jacob POV**

Fuck it. Honestly, fuck it. I have nothing to say.

I left the funeral early. After they lowered her into the grave, I couldn't stand around any longer. I sped home, and as I enter my room, I punch the wall, creating a large dent. I do this repeatedly until a black, empty hole comprises of the spot. In my rage, I kick over my filthy, stacked plates and shatter them. The porcelain lays in pieces across my stained rug, and I trek toward my crock-pot.

After taking excess doses of the moonshine, the thick alcohol envelops my mind into fuzz. However, it only fuels my anger. I dent my fridge, overturn my sofa, fling the empty bottles of beer against the wall.

I sprint down the stairs, exit the garage and exit what used to be my home. I scream, scream at the top of my lungs but nobody's home. _She_ probably is though. I run up the staircase, enter her room and fall to the floor.

I haven't cried in seven years. When I was eleven, when I first realized how transparent my existence is. I break into hysteric sobs and crawl my way to her bed. I climb on and clutch her blanket. It's light pink, and it's been that way as long as I can remember.

I lose it. I howl and choke on my sobs, rendering every animalistic sound possible. When was the last time I told her I loved her?

"I'm sorry," I say to no one. "I'm sorry I couldn't have been a better brother." Another howl rips from my throat. I continue my tipsy hysterics until I pass out on my dead sister's bed.

**Billy POV**

How is it that a parent can cope with the death of their child? My daughter, my baby, suffered for the majority of her life, and although it pains us all, I know she's at peace. It's harder for Rebecca, because she sees our daughter's face in my own. When I look at her, the tears have stolen the life from her eyes. With the passing of our daughter, her death stole from my wife as well. She's vacuous, empty.

Yet along with my grief comes a happiness. This happiness is the fact that Leah's suffering has ceased, that she can be free of pain and free of life's burdens. I know she watches us, and I'm grateful that she makes her presence known. The house is always thick with a silence, but it is not a grieving silence. It's the layered tension of her spirit; she haunts every room.

We all anticipated Leah's death, but if Elizabeth's were to follow, there would be nothing left. This family will crumble to the foundation, because who can go through this twice? My son is only a son by title. He's been gone a long time. So with a dying daughter and an invisible son, there isn't much to be supported with. Everyone is grieving independently – not together- and quite frankly, this will destroy us.

There should be a limit on grief. But there isn't.

* * *

**Jeeze, that was so depressing to write. I'm really sorry about that**

**The rest of the story won't be like this - I promise. I just had to wrap that up**

**Thank you for reading! It means so much to me =]**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	20. The Art of Fluff

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

"Get your phone, woman." Edward groans, yawns and rolls under the covers. I yawn as well and stretch the whole length of the bed. Taking my time to arch my back and rub my eyes, Edward groans again. Ignoring him, I clutch my stomach. I have cramps; it's that time of month.

"Phone… Pick it up…" He muffles from somewhere under the sea of blankets. I whack the lump of his hidden body lightly and crane over him to reach for my vibrating phone. In order for me to snatch it in my fingers, I have to lie across him, causing him to emit yet another incoherent sound. Finally, I retrieve my phone, glance at the caller ID and flip it open.

"Hey kiddo." I'm draped across Edward and hanging over the edge of the bed, my hair cascading vertically down, when he pokes me. I jerk once and suppress a giggle.

"Hi Dad." Hearing that, Edward flings the blanket off his head. He blinks several times, fatigue still caking his face and I crack a smile at his hair. His bronze locks, feral and untamed, jut out and coin the term _bedhead_. Edward props himself upright and I, still on his stomach, bite my lip to suppress laughter.

"How've you been?" My father asks. Edward gazes at me intently.

"Not too bad, Dad. How about you?"

"I've been fine, Bells. Anyway, guess what?" I glance at Edward.

"What? I have no idea." Edward, comprehending there is no imminent danger, nestles himself into the pillow and begins to drum his fingers across my back. He uses my spine as a piano, each vertebrae serving as a key.

"I'm in the area and I've decided we're going to lunch." The intensity of my abdominal cramps increase and I suddenly crave chocolate substances at the thought of food.

"Okay, that sounds great." I cough into the phone yet Edward ceases to be fazed. He continues to drum his cool fingers.

"Fantastic, I'll pick you up in thirty. Same address right? By the way, how's Rosalie doing? She's a funny girl." Edward's fingers freeze and so does my circulation system.

"Oh… yeah… Dad, uh…" I pause. "Dad, the lease expired." I stumble.

"Well did you renew it?" I glance at Edward, wide-eyed.

"…No…" I bite my lip.

"Then where are you living?" He inquires in the phone. I recoil myself from the edge of the bed and prop myself next to Edward. He glances at me.

"I found a new roommate." I mumble. Edward smirks.

"Oh, great. Who is she?" I imagine my Dad's hand on his police belt; fingering the handgun.

"Actually, it's… a guy." I wince and Edward chuckles as my life flashes before my eyes.

"_What_?" He booms into the phone and my eardrums reverberate.

"Dad, it's –"

"_Isabella_, I swear –" Edward snatches the phone from my hand.

"Charlie, how are you? This is Edward Cullen," He says fluidly. "Unfortunately, the lease to Bella's apartment expired and I've offered her to reside at my own for the time being." I exhale.

"Wonderful, and yourself, Mr. Swan?" Edward continues. I snatch the phone back from him.

"Hey Dad, sorry about that." I bite my lip again.

"How long have you been living with him?" Charlie barks into the phone.

"About a month now." I cringe.

"Are you dating or is he just your roommate?" My father demands.

"Well, I mean, we're dating… But –" He cuts off my attempt at a remedy.

"That's what I assumed…" He coughs once. "Uh, I guess the Cullen kid is… okay... At least it's not some –"

"You know Edward, he's a good guy." I thrust into the conversation.

"Yeah… he's not too bad. You two always did seem serious." I flinch as the memories pour into my mind. Edward comprehends and gazes at me, his emerald eyes drenched in remorse.

"I suppose we did."

"Anyway, er, what's the address? I'm getting you in a half hour." Charlie mumbles. I give him the address, say goodbye and brace for the apocalypse.

"Edward." I stare at him, my eyes wide.

"Bella, it'll be alright," He coos. "You know, he used to approve of me." I flinch and suddenly the atmosphere is thick; Charlie does not know the real reason of our post-graduation breakup. He assumed it was the distance of our respective colleges, and if he knew the truth, the world would end in flames. Memories of the first summer without Edward barricades all other thoughts and I wince as I recall the damage he caused me.

I'm silent and Edward brushes my hair back. We've never fully accredited the fact that Charlie assumes Edward is still the same guy he was in high school; the fact that Charlie is unaware Edward destroyed my life, making it vacuous, for eight years. Normally, this would only settle in the pit of my belly, but under these 'circumstances', any emotional guising is out of the question.

"Bell," culpability masks his face. "I know I made the principal mistake of my life by letting you go, but I have you back now. I need to atone for the hurt I've caused you, but please put faith in me that I will." He says softly and kisses my cheek. I nod silently although my heart rate increases. However, I don't meet his eyes.

"I'm going to go change." I say quietly and get up from the bed. Edward lowers his gaze and uproots himself as well. At his closet, I grab an old dress and fit the hanger on the rail again. Although Edward and I have reached that level of intimacy before, I decide to change in the other room.

When I exit the guestroom, Sam greets me. I pat his neck and he follows me into the den. When I take a seat on the sofa, the dog curls up at my feet.

"Bella," Edward follows Sam shortly after. I glance briefly at him. He's wearing beige khakis and an old, casual t-shirt. He's barefoot, and how he got his sling on without my help, I do not know. "I just got you back." He gazes at me longingly. Normally, I wouldn't pick a fight with my Adonis.

"And?" I quip. He glides over to the sofa and seats himself next to me.

"I just want us to start over." He sighs.

"We can't start over if we don't close off the past." I scowl stubbornly.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs and gazes at me with his gorgeous eyes. For a moment, I falter and succumb to their depth.

However, I shake my head. "Do you have _any_ idea what you put me through? I wasted a decade of my life on you, Edward." I snap. He gazes at me leveled and silent.

"It's not a waste. We ended up reconciling." He says calmly.

"So? Who knows if I'm even love with _you_? I could still be in love with who you _were_. Maybe I just haven't let go of the old Edward, that I'm hoping he'll rise from the grave." I hiss stubbornly.

Edward blinks his green eyes once, unmoved.

"Are you…" He begins slowly. "On your…" He makes a face. He knows, purely for two reasons: he has a twin sister and he's been with me too long to know my mood swings like the back of his hand.

"Yes," I snap. "That's why I'm going out to eat every bit of chocolate they have in that restaurant."

…………

While we're awaiting Charlie's arrival, Edward grasps that he must keep his distance. He sits on the loveseat, gazing at me calmly yet attentively while I sit on the adjacent sofa watching the television. Edward is not disregarding my presence, nor is he irate with me - he is just coping with the horrors of my menstrual cycle. He's giving me space; a crucial tactic he picked up by growing up under the same roof as Alice.

The television program I've become suddenly engrossed in entails two individuals undergoing a breakup. At their argument, I begin to sniffle. Edward ogles me; he wishes to help but he knows he may not live if he attempts to cross the border onto my sofa. Suddenly, my cramps increase a notch and I wince as I instinctively clutch my stomach.

"Are you sure you don't want me to get you, er, medicine for that?" He gazes at me expectantly yet guardedly. I glance at him.

"It's fine," I sigh through my sniffles. "It's not that bad." Edward purses his lips. I avert my attention back to the television.

Set in a 1940's era, the boy and girl are outside of a mansion, next to a car.

_You know what! I'm gonna do it! It's over. Okay? It's over._ The girl pushes the boy against the car as her red curls bob from her anger. The boy, a blonde, holds his arms out.

_Come here. _He attempts to hug her.

_Don't touch me! I hate you! I hate you! _The girl screams and begins to cry. The boy, exasperated, turns to put his hand on the car handle.

_Okay, I'm going_. He says calmly and opens the car door.

_Why don't you just go then?_ She seethes and shoves him into the car. _Get out! Leave!_ She screams and kicks his car as he slams the door shut.

_Go!... No, no, just wait a minute, we're not really breaking up are we? Come on. This is just a fight we're having and tomorrow will be like it never happened right?_ She starts to cry again yet he drives away in his own fury. (Can you guess what movie this is?)

The tears well up in my eyes and finally, I begin to cry.

"It's so sad…" I hiccup as I wipe the tears with the back of my hand. Edward stares at me and shifts uncomfortably in the loveseat.

"Damn it," I wipe my eyes. "Stop sitting there. Come here." I sniffle. In a flash, he's next to me, yet still conscientious of my fresh mood swing. I throw my arms dramatically around his neck and the tears come down in rivers. With his right hand, he wipes them from my cheeks and proceeds to cautiously rub my back in soothing circles.

Just then, the doorbell rings.

"Oh no… I want to see the end of the movie." I sniff. Edward, with a torn look on his face, finally decides to peck my cheek. My heart quickens.

"I'll tell you how it ends." He assuages in a soothing voice. I sigh.

"How's it end, Edward?" I curl up into the sofa and attempt to make my countenance publicly acceptable.

"They don't talk for seven years. Finally, they meet up again, get back together and stay that way for the rest of their lives. There's a complicated bit with her having a fiancé, but that would be the gist."

"Oh!" I sigh. "That sounds like us. Minus one year." I pull my mess of hair into a ponytail.

"It is." He muses then smiles lovingly before getting up to get the door.

"Edward?" I call to him as he's walking. He pauses to turn to me. "How do you know the ending?" He doesn't blink.

"Alice made me watch it at least a thousand times."

"So would that be our ending too?" I rise and brush the hem of my dress down.

"Of course." He smiles slightly and then turns to open the door.

On the other side is Charlie. He's wearing, to my utter embarrassment, his Forks Police jacket. However, I haven't seen him in a good year so I fling myself into his arms.

"Hey kiddo." He grins as I inhale his familial scent.

"Hi Dad." I smile as he pulls me away from him. He looks me up and down as his hands are placed on my shoulders.

"Bells, you've gained weight." He notes. Edward, understanding that my emotions are currently a swinging pendulum, turns away from Charlie to cover his face with one hand.

"What…?" I ask meekly, my bottom lip slightly trembling. Edward turns back to face my father and glances at me.

"I mean, you were so thin before. You looked… emaciated and now you seem much healthier." I smile. Edward exhales; blatantly relieved I didn't murder my own father.

"Charlie," He greets warmly. "How are you?" He sticks out his hand for my dad to shake. My dad turns to him.

"Good," Charlie nods once and shakes Edward's hand. However, he glances at his cast. "What happened to your arm, son?"

"Unfortunately, I was in an automobile accident." He says fluidly. Charlie furrows his brow.

"Was Bella in this accident with you?" My dad raises an eyebrow.

"Oh no, of course not." Edward shakes his head. Charlie exhales.

"Well, feel better, Edward. It's been a long time, what have you been doing since I last saw you?" My dad slings an arm around my shoulders and gives one squeeze.

"I went to Harvard, became a lawyer, moved to Seattle and shattered my arm." Edward grins. Charlie grunts.

"Right. You're pretty successful. I've seen you on the news from time to time." He mumbles. Edward simply smiles politely.

"Edward and I worked on a case together," I glance up at Charlie. He nods absentmindedly. "And I'm quitting law."

"What?"

"It's Bella's desire to teach." Edward glances from me to Charlie.

"Then why'd you go to law school on the opposite side of the country?" Charlie gazes at me and I shrug his arm off. I step toward Edward and take his hand in my own.

"I needed to keep myself busy with something, Dad. Law was great, but it's not what I intend on doing for the rest of my life." Edward squeezes my hand. There's a silence.

"As long as you're happy," My dad finally shrugs. "Feel better, Edward." He glances at his cast and then averts his gaze to me.

"Thank you, sir." Edward nods.

"Ready to go, Bells?" I nod and let go of Edward's hand to take Charlie's.

**EPOV**

After Bella leaves for lunch, the ring of my phone reverberates throughout the empty atmosphere of my apartment.

"Alice." I greet, after placing the phone to my ear. Sam nuzzles his nose against my knee and I pat the top of his head.

"We're coming over whether you like it or not. They finally let us take Annabel home." My sister peals demandingly and I can't secrete a smile.

Nearly an hour later, Alice is standing outside my apartment door, her husband and daughter in tow.

"Edward!" Alice greets and cranes upward to peck my cheek. I grin at her warmly. Annabel, my niece, is bundled in my sister's arms.

"Hello my two ladies." I open the door wide and avert my gaze to Jasper. I jut my hand out for him to shake and he takes it.

"Jasper." I smile. He returns one.

"Edward." He nods.

"Speaking of ladies," Alice breezes past me into the apartment. "Where's your main one?" Jasper gives me an apologetic look before following her into the depth of my home. I close the door.

"She's out with Charlie." I call over my shoulder.

"Charlie? Fabulous, I miss that man." Alice peals from my den. I glide into the vicinity, Sam following, to find her sitting next to Jasper on the sofa. He has an arm lovingly draped around her as she holds Annabel away from her chest.

"Come see your niece." Alice smiles and I walk toward her to take Annabel in right arm. She blinks her large eyes and then hides her face into my chest, causing something to stir deep within me. A deeply buried parental instinct breaches the surface and I begin to cradle her small body. She sighs into my shirt. I note that the tiny blonde child is dressed in white footie decorated with small, brown teddy bears. Over her footie is a light pink jacket, however, it hardly passes for one.

"Is she wearing a… cardigan?" I lift my head to raise an eyebrow at Alice.

"Yeah, Versace made me a deal." Alice tilts her head onto Jasper's shoulder. I ogle her.

"Your child is wearing Versace?" My eyebrow goes through the roof.

"Did you expect anything less?" Alice scoffs and I shrug.

"And I see you've decided to place a bow in her ten strands of hair." I muse and my sister's pealing giggles permeate my den.

"She looks cute, though." Alice defends using her daughter as a model and Jasper laughs heartily.

"Don't you have a say in this?" I turn to him and smile amusingly.

"Oh, you're joking. A say in Annabel's attire?" Jasper laughs and I can't help but join in. I look back down on my niece's face and her blue eyes light up. Sam whines from the lack of attention.

"Hi." I coo. My father's eyes stare back at me. She grins, and before I can say any word she smacks me lightly on the neck.

Her parents double over in laughter, and when Annabel senses this, she begins to giggle as well.

"She's already taking after you." I say to Alice.

"I know. She's sassy. I love it."

"That's not necessarily a good thing." I snort.

"Feel free to smack him again, Bell." Alice scowls jokingly.

She does. Good God. My sister and her husband are in hysterics, and I gaze at them as they laugh in unison; in sync. This is when I raise my eyebrows at my niece.

"No, Annabel. No, that's bad." I coo in a paternal tone. She furrows her brow, glances up at the ceiling, back to me, and then smacks my neck again. She erupts into fits of ringing giggles, just as her parents.

"Have you trained her to abuse me?" I jest.

"No, Edward," Jasper attempts to calm the room, although he is laughing. "Annabel views it as acceptable because she sees both her parents giving off a positive reaction. We'll stop." He smiles.

"No, don't. Keep going, Jazz." Alice tinkers and I attempt a scowl through hilarity.

"Annabel," I coax in a comforting voice. She smiles at me again and it causes me to smile back. "Don't slap Uncle Edward." I give her a joking look.

She bites me. Christ. Alice begins to laugh so hard that tears well up in her eyes, yet her ringing laughter resonates as tinkling pixies. Jasper embraces her and they are in unison once again.

"Hello?" We all hear a soft voice floating from the foyer.

"Bella!" Alice peals. "We're all in the den!" A moment later, Bella walks in with Charlie in tow. She has an astounded countenance; a result of the surprise of company. Sam trots up to her and nuzzles the hem of her dress before greeting Charlie.

"Hi guys." She finally greets and ambles over to the sofa. She pecks Jasper's cheek and embraces Alice before heading toward me. She gazes at me with her gorgeous eyes before craning up to kiss my jaw line. To my relief, she no longer appears to be intemperate.

"_Yes_," Alice throws her arms in the air. "It's official." She tinkles. Bella blushes slightly before glancing down at Annabel.

"May I?" She asks quietly. I nod and then place my niece into her awaiting arms.

"Alice!" Charlie greets ecstatically. He has a large grin plastered on his face.

"Hi Charlie." Alice squeals and bounds over to him. He embraces her briefly and pats her on the back.

"Bells here told me all about Annabel." He grins. My sister smiles back and this is when Jasper arises.

"Charlie," He greets. "How are you?" Charlie's eyes light up.

"Jazz, I'm good. How are your parents? Tell them hi for me." The Swans and Whitlocks are close family friends. Growing up, Jasper was the closest Bella had to a sibling – until she met Alice, of course. Now as a package deal, they both serve as siblings to her.

"Fine, I'll pass along your greetings." Jasper smiles warmly as they shake hands over the coffee table.

"Bella stop hogging her and let Papa Swan see." Alice giggles. We all turn to Bella.

She's cradling her goddaughter in her arms, humming a tune that evokes immense reminiscences. It's my song; the one I composed for her. The song, nearly a decade old, emits quietly as she embraces Annabel in her arms. We all watch her, entranced as she nears the end of my song. Bella twirls once, keeping her eyes on the baby, and the hem of her dress spins with them. Words bubble in my throat, but I choke them down in fear of ruining the moment as all eyes are on her. She's a natural mother, and suddenly my mind is filled with thoughts of her cradling _our_ child. However, I quickly bat them away. _She hasn't even fully agreed to marrying you_, I think darkly. Dejected and humiliated, I turn the other direction the moment her humming ends on the last note.

When she lifts her head, she turns a thousand shades of crimson.

"Oh…" She bites her lip.

"Bella!" Alice exclaims. "You're such a natural." For a second, her glance strays to me and when we lock eyes, she looks away.

"Thanks." Bella mumbles, still beat red. Charlie goes over to her and I take meticulous care not to catch his glance.

"Can I see her?" He asks and his daughter places Annabel into his arms. At first, he's hesitant.

"Hey." He says and uneasily rocks her. Bella, still blushing, slowly ambles her way toward me. She stops a foot away and smiles slightly.

"Sorry about earlier…" She trails and I shake my head. I'm still entranced with her maternal performance.

"No worries, Bella. You're a saint compared to when Alice is placed under the same… circumstances." At this, she bites her lip in laughter as we both imagine the monstrosity of our favorite pixie.

"I heard my name." Alice places her hands on her hips.

"We were just discussing how much of a saint you are, dear sister." I smile coyly and Bella's lip begins to tremble as it falters against her smothered laughter.

"Oh I bet." She says dryly and turns to Jasper.

"She threw a chair at me once." I murmur to Bella and her eyes light up.

"I remember that! Esme's favorite, right? I was there and we had to take refuge in the theatre." Bella crinkles her eyes in laughter and I choke on a chuckle.

"I can't say my mother was too pleased about that chair."

"Or the fact she nearly broke down the door to your home theatre?" Bella begins to giggle uncontrollably and I chortle, despite my attempt to smother them.

"She was on quite the warpath." I muse and Bella and I laugh in unison, just as Alice and Jasper did earlier.

"Alice, why were you so mad at Edward that one time? I know you two always bickered but there was this one particular time…" She turns slightly to face my sister. Both Alice and Charlie look up at her.

"When?" Alice tinkles.

"When you threw Esme's chair at him and broke it in half." She smiles and Alice puts her head between her knees from laughter. When she raises her head again, her titters have not ceased.

"I _remember _that. Oh, I was so angry. I think… he stepped on my eyelash curler and broke it. But, he didn't apologize!" Alice exclaims and I scoff.

"Oh please, you never cleaned anything up. How was I supposed to know I broke that ridiculous thing?" Bella throws her head back in laughter.

"What, Edward? Why were you in my bathroom in the first place?" She crosses her arms.

"I needed a towel." I shrug.

"You had plenty! That was my favorite eyelash curler." She huffs.

"And… I bought you another after you tried so hard to concuss Bella and I with our parents' furniture." She giggles.

"Sorry about that Bells," Alice turns to her. Then, she turns to me. "You deserved it though."

"What?" I exclaim and the room laughs.

"It was my favorite! And you _knew_ not to mess with me. I tried to make it blatantly clear it was that time of month by not cleaning up my bathroom. _My_ bathroom, not _yours_. That was a courtesy." She narrows her eyes.

"Not cleaning it up as in strewing your opened packages of tampons around? Mind you, you shared the house with three other people. Two of those three being men." I throw my one hand into the air as she throws her two hands up simultaneously. I suppose it's a twin thing.

"Dad was never home, and I wouldn't exactly call you a man." She scoffs. Sam begins to whine.

"And I wouldn't exactly call you a woman." I give her a pointed look. Bella is in hysterics and she relocates onto the sofa, next to Jasper. He has a grin plastered on his face as both our respective partners witness an infamous Cullen tiff.

"_You _try giving birth to a child."

"I guess I'll give it a shot since you so nicely downplayed my masculinity." At this, Alice's stone demeanor flickers slightly, but she recomposes herself and suppresses a laugh.

"Good, Annabel needs a cousin. I think your femininity can help make this happen."

I throw my head back in laughter. "You're so crass." Bella and Jasper watch us intently, their eyes going back and forth as if witnessing a ping-pong match.

"You're so stupid," She starts to get up but then pauses. "No, wait, I take that back. You're too smart. But remember that time the piano became untuned? And you so dramatically lost your 'life' for two weeks? Yeah, I did that when you misplaced my handbag." She grins wickedly. Bella and Jasper, sensing an explosion, sink deeper into the couch.

"Are you joking?" I snap. Alice continues to grin. "Well," My lips twitch. "I peed in your shampoo once." Bella laughs loudly but immediately covers her hand over her mouth.

"_WHAT?" _She shrieks. I shrug. Sam barks just as Annabel emits a tiny whine.

"It was after one of our arguments. The one where you so classically ripped the pages out of my calculus textbook." Her eyes flash and she is off the sofa before I can blink. She lunges for my throat when Jasper wraps his arms around her waist and yanks her, with force, back onto her lap. She wriggles around, attempting to break free while shooting me a glare laced with daggers. Before Alice can open her mouth, it's Charlie who begins to laugh hysterically. We all turn to him in surprise, simply because we've forgotten his presence.

"You Cullen kids are ridiculous." He chuckles. After another second, Alice returns to her previous state.

"_Edward_," She hisses. "I swear –" Jasper tightens his grip on his wife and begins to shush her. No emotion flickers over my face; this was a normal day for us in high school.

"Ah, sibling love." He muses quietly, although he has a thrashing pixie in his lap. Sam barks once at Alice, causing Annabel to emit yet another sound of distress.

"I suppose that's for ruining my piano as well." I flash a smile and she growls. Before any other events occur, Bella is off the couch and in front of me.

"I have to take him to physical therapy now," She says with a smile as she smoothes my cheek. "And welcome back, old Edward." She adds in a whisper, ignoring her father.

…………

As we're sitting in the waiting lounge of my newly acquired physical therapist, I hold Bella's hand. Sam is curled up at our feet.

"You didn't actually pee in her shampoo, did you?" She murmurs and gazes at me with her beautiful eyes.

"Nope." I grin maniacally and she giggles silently.

"You're terrible." She muses.

"Potentially." I flash another smile.

"Mr. Cullen?" The receptionist calls for me.

"Yes?" I inquire while maintaining my grasp on Bella's soft hand.

"Can you fill this out?" She points to a clipboard with her pen. I nod once, squeeze Bella's hand and get up to glide toward the desk. When I reach it, the receptionist discourteously gapes at me.

"Is there a problem?" I ask quizzically. She blinks several times and then straightens out her ponytail.

"Oh, nothing." She manages, flustered, yet flashes a large smile. I smile politely in return and grip the pen in my right hand. On the clipboard, I fill in my information regarding identification, the accident, my injury, and my prior injury of epilepsy.

"We don't allow dogs in here." The receptionist says to me, and when I lift my head to meet her gaze she intakes a large breath of air.

"It's a service dog." I respond. After a moment, she finally nods.

"And is that your wife?" She prods. I look over my shoulder to see my two aids: Bella fidgeting in the chair, blatantly aware of my interaction with this receptionist and Sam resting his head against her shoe, blatantly unaware of the interaction. I turn back to her and she stares at me expectantly.

"That would be her." I murmur and proceed to fill the rest of the clipboard out.

"Oh." The receptionist says under her breath.

When I've completed the application, I cap the pen, raise my head and flash her a smile before placing the pen and clipboard in front of her.

She glances down at it. "We'll… call you when we're… ready." She stammers. I nod once, turn and head toward Bella.

"Hi, husband." She says sardonically.

"Hello wife." I smile, causing her to smile as well.

…………

"Mr. Cullen, and how is it you injured your arm?" The physical therapist assesses me as I sit on the scratchy, blue cot.

"A motor vehicle collision." I murmur. Bella sits in a chair next to the cot, my sling and coat in her lap.

"Did you undergo surgery?" He probes.

"Yes." I nod.

"Have you had any other major injuries in your lifetime?" I swallow once and glance at Bella; this is the first time I'm admitting my condition aloud. There's no lying through a smokescreen in this situation.

"Yes," I begin slowly. "I have epilepsy from a head trauma." The therapist nods and jots down notes onto a clipboard. Bella smiles at me encouragingly.

"And how long ago was this head trauma?"

"Eight years ago." I respond.

"Can you currently move any part of your arm?" He glances up from his clipboard.

"Only my ring finger." I demonstrate for him and wriggle the said finger through my cast.

"According to your report, your ulnar nerve was repaired. This nerve controls the pinky and ring finger, so that would seem accurate," He taps his clipboard and I nod. "Your afferent nerves, those that are sensory, appear to be alright. However, your efferent nerves were severely damaged in your crash," He mutters. "These control motor neurons and muscle movement."

"And that's why I'm here." I purse my lips.

"Yes," He nods. "Your radial nerve was repaired which is excellent news – it controls tricep movement. Axillary appears alright, median is good, everything seems to have been repaired, except for one. Your musculocutaneous nerve was slightly permanently damaged. This controls bicep and forearm supination, which unfortunately pinpoints this as your weakest spot."

"Essentially, I can't flex my bicep?" I question.

"Well, yes, but that's what you're here for. You have use of the rest of your arm, we'll just need to work on the supination. However, if worst comes to worst, you'll have a weak forearm for the rest of your life."

"And in the best scenario?" I gaze at him expectantly.

"You'll gain full use of your arm again, Mr. Cullen."

"Then let's get to work."

Within the following hour, the physical therapist drills me with exercises. Bella watches with concern masking her gorgeous face, and after the grueling sixty minutes, the only progress I've made is a twitching of my pinky finger. According the therapist, I should have full movement of both my pinky and ring fingers within the next week - for the corresponding nerve was successfully and thoroughly repaired.

It's better than nothing.

Although I insisted, Bella drives Sam and I to our apartment. So strange, to think the woman of dreams now resides with me.

When I insert the key, unlock the door and let ourselves in, she closes the door slowly behind her. She continues to brush the hem of her dress down as Sam trots into the depths of the apartment – leaving us.

"Thank you for taking me, love. And do _you_ feel better?" I turn to her and tilt my head to the side. She takes a step toward me and runs his fingers lightly across my cast, eyeing it.

"I'm fine now. That must have been so excruciating." She brings her eyes to meet mine. I shake my head.

"Hardly at all. It's just very frustrating." I ensure her and she sighs.

"Okay, I'll believe you." She responds lightly and takes another step forward to wrap her arms around my waist.

When she lays her head on my shirt, I absentmindedly twirl locks of her soft, mahogany tresses around my finger. She sways, shaking my torso yet not my legs, and I twist along with her while I begin to hum her song.

* * *

**I tried to make it non-depressive. Was it okay?**

**And by the way, if you guessed "The Notebook" as the movie, you get a free hug!**

**Hoorah! Thanks, as always, for reading. It means so much to me =]**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	21. My Dungeon's In My Sock Drawer

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper. Nor am I racist**

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**BPOV**

"So what's it like to have a twin?" I murmur a question I've never once asked him. I gaze carefully at the road, but I detect him stirring from the corner of my eye. The stoplight turns green.

"It's nothing special." He responds fluidly.

"I was under the impression twins had some sort of special connection." I tighten my grip on the steering wheel; we're driving toward the hospital.

"Well, that's a supposition that could be considered correct." I see him smile from my peripheral vision and I make a left hand turn.

"How so?" I turn my head to drink in his appearance.

"Bells, keep your eyes on the road." He rolls his eyes and smirks lovingly.

"Oops." I mutter and snap my head back.

"It's complicated to explain," He finally begins. "Someone without a twin would find it difficult to grasp."

"Try me." I slow to a stop at a red light.

"Well, twins have an irreplaceable connection. They possess a bond that cannot be duplicated between any two other people." The light turns green and I accelerate while nodding for him to continue.

"It's…" He sighs. "I don't know how to explain."

"What kind of bond?" I purse my lips and slow for a stop sign.

"I suppose telepathically. I know it sounds absolutely mental, but if your twin were in trouble, hurt, even dead you'd… know." He muses lightly.

"How?" I furrow my brow and make a right hand turn.

He shrugs. "It's a built in radar." He raises his free hand to tap his temple lightly, an action I witness from my peripheral. I turn my head to him again, yet before I can speak he jerks the steering wheel within my hands. What ensues is a blare of the horn from the opposing car.

"Bella," He scowls. "Keep your eyes on the road." I turn crimson and proceed to tentatively gaze out the window.

"Sorry." I bite my lip; if I were to place one, solitary scratch on his car I'm not sure he'd allow me to live with him.

"It's all right." Amusement returns to his silky voice.

"So how?" I continue.

"A built in radar." He repeats as I take a left hand turn.

"Give me an example." I crease my brow and turn the blinker off.

He sighs. "You could be across the world and you'd know if your twin was injured."

"So it's like Spidey-senses?" I smile.

"You don't tingle," He scoffs and chuckles. "You just know."

"That's not very descriptive." I refute and turn on the right hand blinker.

"Your twin is your other half." He drips sarcastically.

"I know… I just don't understand it all that much." I drum my fingers against the steering wheel at a stoplight.

"Of course; you're an only child."

I wrinkle my nose. "So when you got in the accident," The atmosphere goes solemn. "Did Alice know?"

"Yes."

"How?" I repeat myself.

"She just did. Why is it she was at the hospital an hour before you? Trust me, she told me this bit." He states and I bite my lip. It happens to be the truth that Alice was already pacing outside the surgical ward before I even had time to answer the call.

"And every incident you've had in your life? The first car accident?" I wince, however, he doesn't flinch.

"She knew."

"Specifically?" I bite my lip.

"No, not the specifics. She called all night, however. I had to turn my phone off." He's gazing at me.

"So that's why your phone was off?" I sigh. He nods from my peripheral.

"And every time you've had a seizure?" I prod.

"Yes."

"Why didn't she come visit you?" I accelerate slightly.

"Bella," He scowls. "I thought it was apparent her and I did not speak for a few years."

I turn crimson once again. "Right…"

It's silent for a moment as the only sound in his silver Volvo is Sam's heavy breathing in the back seat.

"So it was difficult." I comment bluntly.

"What was?" He has not taken his green eyes off me.

"Your estrangement with Alice. You said it yourself that twins have an irreplaceable bond."

"It's like trying to hide from your shadow." He jokes and I crack a smile.

"So whenever she got hurt, did you know?" We're around a mile from the hospital now.

"Of course." He nods.

"Like when?" He ponders for a moment and then he breaks into a crooked smile.

"When her and I were both sixteen, she broke her foot at ballet," He pauses again to emit a beautiful laugh. "I had this feeling… quite ominous to say the least, so I sped over to her ballet studio. Next thing you know, five minutes later she's in the passenger seat shrieking at me with a broken foot. I had to carry her into the emergency room flailing," He grins wildly and I have to suppress laughter at the thought. "It was the incident that ultimately caused her to quit." He finishes.

"So that's why she quit dance?" I ponder this enlightenment.

He nods. "You can't resume ballet after an injury of that caliber."

"I suppose it was a good thing. She discovered fashion." I wrinkle my nose once again and pull into the hospital parking lot.

"A good thing?" He raises his eyebrows and we laugh in unison.

"So why didn't you know when she was going into labor?" I question, puzzled, as we both recount that day in court. He assesses this for a moment and finally sighs.

"It wasn't solely about her. Not her and I, as I so stated we are two halves. Another - Annabel, was involved, and I suppose this is when the twin instinct times out." I slide into a parking space and cut the engine.

"When someone else is involved," I repeat. "Is that why she…" I begin to piece carefully.

"Didn't know about my pain regarding _you?_ Yes." He murmurs. I bite my lip and he leans over to snatch his keys from the ignition. Before retracting however, he plants a kiss on my collarbone, an action causing me to shiver with happiness. However, I don't have time to react before he's already outside his car, opening the door to let Sam trot out.

I scowl and slip outside of the vehicle as well before he is already at my side.

"Ready?" His beautiful face is solemn as he grabs my hand. At that moment, a searing pain rips through my skull and I wince as a repercussion.

"Are you all right?" He asks attentively.

I nod. "Yeah it's… well… you know." I smile meekly and avoid the subject of my menstrual cycle.

"Right," He finishes uncomfortably. I laugh weakly and he squeezes my hand. I close my eyes and he allows me to recollect my composure for around a minute. Finally, he impedes. "Ready now, love?"

I nod once, barely recomposed, and we walk, hands clasped, toward the entrance with Sam following.

Her ICU room is brightly lit. It conveys cheer, albeit the tragedy in the gurney. Bouquets, cards and gifts are laden throughout the perimeter of her room, all of them pertaining to _get well soon_ or _we love you_. A large stuffed bear sits gently atop her bedside table, and then I wonder who did all this. Her family? That can't be so… Disregarding this, I finally bring myself to look at her. My eyes well up.

Elizabeth is lying in her hospital bed equipped with numerous, protruding tubes. They snake from her head, torso, side… all leading toward their respective destinations. Her hair, now a layer of light brown fuzz, hides underneath the heavily bandaged display upon her head. Several patches of this fuzz jut from beneath the white, and this is when I spot the end of his long, jagged surgical scar.

Edward cringes at this. He has a matching one on his arm.

"Stop." I sigh and turn to him. He refuses to look at the destruction he has caused the girl who was once our client. His head is turned, his green eyes stare hard at a crack in the white wall.

"What?" He asks quietly, flatly. The green eyes do not leave the crack.

"Blaming yourself." I say under my breath, in sanctity of Elizabeth's presence. He ignores me and I feel a twinge of nostalgia – this is the return of the frosty, rigid man of the past eight years. Not Edward.

After gazing at him, I tear myself away and walk carefully toward her bed. They took her off the ventilator yesterday; she can now breath independently. This much can fuel a sliver of hope, can't it? The tube atop her fragile head is a shunt. My medical terminology course at Yale taught me once upon a time that this apparatus is used to drain excess blood and fluid from the cranium. Of course, attached to her snaking catheter is a ruby red drainage bag filled with plasma and other substances from her leaking brain.

In accordance, her face is swollen. Bruising around her eyes cause the pallid complexion of her skin to clash in stark contrast with the purple, blue splotches. Elizabeth is not a pale girl. Death decided to paint her skin white, however.

At the side of her bed, I reach my hand forward to touch her cheek. Lightly, so lightly, the tips of my fingers brush against her colorless cheekbone. At this, the dam to my tear ducts break and I withdraw my hand to utilize my fingers toward eliminating the tears.

Edward doesn't move.

"I'm getting a doctor." I sniffle. He slowly raises his head.

"Why?" He responds vacuously and my nostalgic fear deepens; I just got him back.

"I need to know if she's going to live." I blink rapidly, attempting to subdue the tears. His green eyes gaze vapidly at my own and I suck in deeply as I fumble past him, toward the door.

……….

"Her intracranial pressure has decreased." Her ICU doctor taps his clipboard and glances up at me.

"Is that good?" I nibble my lip.

"Yes, it means she won't have to go back into surgery anytime soon. The ceased pressure on her brain has stabilized the swelling." He peers at me through his wire-rimmed glasses.

"Okay," I sigh. "So do you have a prognosis on her outcome?" He frowns slightly.

"It's difficult to say at the moment. However, she's made immense improvement from the past… few days." He manages. He means since her sister's death.

"Yes…" I mumble. "And I was told she was taken off her ventilator." Edward and Sam stand next to me, although the rigid man of the past few years is still present.

"Yes, yesterday," The doctor nods. "It's hopeful she can breathe independently but there are still chances of increased ICP, stroke, heart failure, seizure…" At the latter, Edward freezes.

"So will she have permanent brain damage?" His velvet voice, now monotonous, asks.

"Again, it's difficult to say. Because she didn't have a stroke she should have full use of speech, movement, et cetera. However, psychological effects cannot be determined at this point in her condition."

Edward simply nods. "Thank you." I touch my hand lightly to his free arm and he flinches.

"She's been on steroids since the crash," The doctor continues. Again, Edward flinches at the last word. "We're placing her on several other medications for swelling."

"How long will she be comatose?" I whisper, my hand still on Edward's arm.

"I don't know. She could wake up today, tomorrow, or in five years. I really don't know, Ms. Swan." He glances back down at his clipboard.

"Thank you, doctor…" I trail and turn to leave. However, I stop myself. A compelling force begins to speak for itself, all the result of a burning curiosity. "Sir?" I ask lightly. Edward slowly turns his head toward me.

"Yes?" He glances up.

"Has her family visited?" An ominous feeling suddenly settles into my core as I realize I don't want to know anymore.

Sorrow washes over his face and I glance down swiftly.

"Her brother."

"Have her parents?" I ask meekly. The doctor gazes at the linoleum tile sadly.

"No."

"And that's why we're here." Edward speaks before I do. I glance up at him and he gazes back at me; his green eyes thawed. He's come to peace within himself.

"God bless," The doctor murmurs and scratches his balding head. "She needs someone, poor girl." He falters and lowers his professionalism façade.

"Us." Edward responds, once again shocking me. The doctor nods.

"If she wakes up, let's hope her family can take after you two."

…………

In the car, I turn on the stereo and crank the volume.

"What are you doing?" Edward glances at me.

"Listening to music." I sigh. He spins the volume knob down three notches and I reach my hand out to stop him.

"Bella?" He asks softly and my hand is still on top of his.

"What?" I respond inaudibly.

"Are you okay?" His voice is dripping honey, a substance I did not know could crack people.

"No." I accelerate.

"I think she'll wake up." He assuages and I sigh deeply.

"That's not it," I murmur and attempt to pry his hand off the volume knob. "It's that her family hasn't visited.

"Jacob did." His hand doesn't budge.

"What about her parents?" I ask, upset, "And Edward, just let me listen to music." I yank his hand.

"This is music?" He raises an eyebrow at me and then the stereo system. Pink Floyd thumps from the bass.

"Yes." I mutter.

"This depressive wailing? It's not helping you, Bella." He speaks softly and I finally withdraw my hand after running a red light.

"It's not right," I shake my head fervently. "I understand Billy and Rebecca are mourning but they have other children to care for." I slow to a stop at the next red light.

"Of course it's not right." He says simply. I jerk my head toward him.

"So if she wakes up, what parents will she have?" I ask desperately. He blinks his green eyes and reaches his undamaged hand out to brush my cheek with his thumb.

"We can be." He murmurs quietly as I gasp.

"What?"

"We can attain guardianship." He begins and I shake my head once again.

"Not without her parents' consent." My libel knowledge stirs.

"I know," He nods. "But a suit can be presented for neglect." I gasp again and ignore the fact the light turned green.

"You're joking." I breathe, wide-eyed.

"No. And I know you, Bella. You'll agree because it _is_ in fact neglect." I wasn't fighting his manipulative, cunning logic.

"But…" I trail.

"But what? It's not right? Do tell me how it is just in terms of a comatose adolescent currently on her deathbed _with_ the addition of parental neglect." His eyes blaze and I have to turn my head from the searing intensity. I accelerate.

"Jacob is 18." I comment bluntly.

"Jacob can't take care of her," He scoffs. "Besides, he asked me to."

I slam the brakes and pull the car onto the side of the curb.

"What?" I blurt.

"He wants us to." He repeats softly. I sit silently for a moment before I finally turn to him.

"How the hell are we going to be her guardians, Edward?" It comes out quietly rather than fierce.

"Well, you're phenomenal with children." He tilts his head slightly.

"What about you?" I scowl.

"I'm going to try." He murmurs and I relent.

"We're not even married! Or engaged, hell, I don't even know if we're officially a couple! Everything just… _happened_. How would that be a stable environment for Elizabeth? " I spill and he smiles.

"Did I not propose to you?" He raises an eyebrow and I turn crimson.

"We're sort of engaged…" I admit. "But what does that even mean? We jumped from enemies to… to to an engagement?" I shake my head.

"Okay," He shrugs and clicks open the glove compartment to retrieve a pen and notepad. With his right hand, he scrawls onto the piece of paper, rips it off and hands it to me. "Very 6th grade-esque." He can't hide a smile. I glance down at the perfect script in my hands.

_Will you be my girlfriend? Can I hold your hand in the lunchroom? _Underneath are two boxes: one for yes and the second for no. I hiss under my breath but then laugh. I check one of the boxes and hand it back to him.

"You're so immature." I roll my eyes roar the Volvo's engine to life.

"Not really. I'm just trying to lighten the mood." He shrugs and folds the piece of paper, the one checked _yes_.

I scowl again. "That was romantic." He laughs.

"I was under the impression you've _been_ my girlfriend." He smirks and my heart flutters at a high velocity.

"I guess." I mutter under my breath.

"But in all seriousness, Bella, you're my gorgeous, intelligent, caring lady. I won't take no for an answer, I'll kidnap you later if you decide I'm not your boyfriend. Oops, that's right, you live with me." He grins crookedly and I laugh while blindly swatting him with my right hand; my eyes are on the road.

"Good to know I live with a kidnapper."

"Yeah, I'll show you wear I keep my dungeon full of abducted children later." He grins as I can't contain a snort of laughter.

"Great, sounds like a date."

…………

His receptionist glances up from her desk. Her head, once buried in the piles of paperwork, now gazes at us. Her body is frozen as the tip of her pen stops its scrawl and her brown curls still.

"Hi, Mr. Cullen," She thaws and breezes in a chipper manner. "It's wonderful to have you back." She rises from her seat swiftly but he stops her with an outstretched palm.

"Thank you, Jessica." He smiles warmly and she returns the same.

"Do you need me to help you with anything?" The beam remains plastered on her face; she has not glanced at me once.

He shakes his head. "That's quite all right. However, it's rude to disregard company." He gestures to me and my cheeks burn a shade of crimson. Hers do as well, yet not at the same velocity.

"Oh, hi Ms. Swan." She strays her eyes to me and then back to her boss. Her tone indicates apathy; she was bitter about my allotted time spent with Edward during trial.

"Hello." I strain a smile, however, she only has eyes for him.

"Well," He interrupts the thickened silence. "I suppose it would be appropriate for me to pick up a new case. Do you have any new clients for me, Jessica?" He ruffles his hair and raises his green eyes toward the ceiling.

"Oh," She replies, engrossed in his beauty. "Yes, I'll place them in your office now." She throws on another perfect smile and proceeds to furiously scribble onto a yellow Post-it note.

"I better get going," I mumble as he turns toward me. "I'll pick you up later." I withdraw his keys from my bag and he takes a step forward.

"Yes, later." He smiles gloriously. I nod once and turn to leave when he leans in and plants a lingering kiss on my lips. My poor, battered ribcage barricades the tenacity of my thumping heart and when he pulls away, I sigh contentedly. It never gets old.

"Bye." He winks and Jessica Stanley nearly falls out of her chair.

**Emmett POV**

Boredom is a disease. But with every disease comes a cure. Well, almost every. You know what I mean.

"Rose, there is _nothing_ to do." I boom, mid-complaint, to my fiancée. She appears from the living room, pink curlers in her hair, and drinks in my appearance as I sit dejectedly at the kitchen counter.

"And?" She purses her lips. I outstretch my arms toward her.

"I'm bored. Give me some lovin'." She saunters over and sighs.

"Maybe some other time."

"Ouch." I recoil.

"Babe, that's not what I mean. I'm going out with Bella in a few minutes." She steps forward and takes my hands within hers.

"So?" I pout.

"_So_, I haven't seen her in a few weeks." She refutes and brings her arms in to mash my palms together.

"But you talk on the phone all the time." I whine.

"It's not the same." She scowls and drops her hands from mine.

"Women." I mutter, incoherently, under my breath. At this moment she checks the green glow of the stove time and plucks a curler from her hair.

"Time to go." She chirps and proceeds to eliminate the rest of her hair of those womanly _contraptions_.

"Urgh." I groan and help her retrieve one of the contraptions she missed.

"Bye babe, don't do anything stupid while I'm gone." _I'll be sure to_, I think. She smiles and then eyes me warily. After kissing her for too long, she finally pulls away and turns to leave.

"Tell Bell hey." I call after her.

What the hell? I check the time: 2:05 PM. It's a Thursday. What the hell is there to do at 2:05 on a Thursday? I consider calling Jasper but then opt against doing so; the poor guy is probably changing diapers and helping Alice with a catalog. Or, he's at work… most likely the latter. I'll cut him slack though; he has a kid now. Alice? No. She probably nabbed a sitter and is in on the feminine outing with Bella and Rose. This leaves one person.

Edward.

Well, the poor guy is probably at physical therapy or work. However, a sliver of brilliance enters my train my thought. I could always prank call him if he were working… However, the tiny angel within me refutes that he needs a break. His arm, the one injured in the crash, is of course a daily reminder of that tragic day. Hm…

Oh well, he has Bella to cheer him up at night. And if she isn't, I need to demand why. Well, she is terribly thoughtful, so maybe she would consider it a strain on his injury? I scoff. I mean, a man of that caliber is capable of pulling off the deed one-armed right? I place an arm behind my back to reenact his handicap. However, to be more realistic, I bring my arm out from behind my back and prop it into a casted position.

Strange, I conclude. Strange but doable.

_Emmett_, the voice inside my head hisses. _Stop thinking about whether or not Bella and Edward get it on and do something with your lazy ass._

Yellow pages. The yellow pages. Sorry Edward. I uproot myself from the kitchen counter and saunter into the den. The one bookcase I keep in the far corner holds the thick directory. I pluck it from its respective position and thumb through the pages, heading straight toward the _attorney_ section. After a rigorous two minutes of flipping through, I find it.

_Cullen at Law_ it prints and proceeds to list a phone number. Perfect.

It takes three rings before a chipper secretary picks up the phone.

"Cullen at Law," She purrs into the phone. "How may I assist you today?"

"Haaalllloooo? Lika someboodee needa halp me!" I throw on an Asian accent.

"Pardon, sir?" She responds, puzzled.

"I need lawya. Lawya!"

"Oh… er, I'll forward you to him. What's your name?"

"No name… My muddah neva ruv me." I choke a cry.

"Oh… Er, right. Yes… Just a moment please." I hear a click and I hum to abide the time. A minute later, I hear his voice.

"Hello sir, how may I help you today?"

"Haaaallloooo?"

"Hello?"

"Halllooo meester. I like to place orda fo two-tirty peek aph."

"…Pardon?" He asks puzzled, just as his secretary.

"I say I like to place orda fo peek aph."

"Sir," He sighs. "This is an attorney's office, not a restaurant."

"Ooooooooh."

"Yes… well… -"

"Meester, no! I need lawya!"

"Hence reasoning why you contacted my office?" He snips.

"You seeah, sooombahh dee attack my muddah!"

"Excuse me?"

"A man fak my muddah! He go BANG BANG!"

"Sir, you need to refrain from using that language." He sighs.

"Oh why? You no big boi? C'mon big boiii, you no wear diapers no more."

"Sir –"

"You no big boi… Me thought lawyas men. Big strrrong men."

"I _am_ a big boy." He growls into the phone and I have to cover the mouthpiece from my laughter. At recomposing myself from my chuckles, I straight myself out.

"Can youah esplayn to meee how you a big boii?" I snicker.

"_Excuse_ me? Look, I don't have time for prank calls." He iterates, peeved.

"No! No no no no. No prank call, this fo real." I snigger.

"Then what do you _need_?" He hisses.

"I told you! Meesta, a man attack my famiree. My muddah! My grandmuddah!"

"When?" He asks bluntly.

"You hava da won ton soup big boii?" I bite my lip from the laughter.

"Mister – "

"NO! No no no no. I wanta da LANCH. I hungry! You racist! Racist! Racism no allowed here, I thought you lawya."

"Sir, I'm going to hang up now."

"NO! I go ova der, you dirty boii. I keel yo famiree, dammit. Big boi, I fak you!"

I hear a click and the other line goes dead.

"Asshole." I grin to myself and chuckle as I dial another number.

"Hello?" She answers on the second ring.

"Bella, hey. I need your help."

"With what, Emmett?" She asks cautiously.

"I need to prank call Edward." I grin into the phone.

"Something tells me you already have."

"How could you question my innocence?" I choke back a laugh.

"…Yeah… no." She sighs.

"No to what?"

"Your innocence."

"Silly Bella, I don't know what you're talking about." I snort.

She snorts as well. "Right. So what do you want, Em?"

"I need you to help me prank call him." I repeat.

"Why?" She asks suspiciously.

"Please, please, please, Bells. He's been uptight, I need to unwind him."

"He didn't seem very uptight earlier." She refutes.

"How so?"

"He made some joke about being a kidnapper." She half-laughs. I gasp.

"That's perfect."

…………

"Hi Jessica, do you think you can forward me to Edward, please?" Bella purrs into the three-way call.

"Yeah." The receptionist mutters and the two of us are forwarded to our awaiting victim.

"Bella." Edward's voice wafts lovingly. I snicker.

"Edward," She responds. "How's work?"

"Fine. And how are you?" He sighs in a bored tone.

"I could… be better. You see, this man is convinced you really kidnap children."

"You're joking." He laughs freely into the phone.

"Actually, no. He'd like to ask you a few questions." A giggle slips from her lips.

He sighs. "This is ridiculous."

"Why?" She questions innocently.

"Some fool phoned me earlier about take-out."

I snigger. "Oh?" Her voice wavers.

"Is this a joke, Bella?" He sighs impatiently. Crap. She's going to crack.

"N-no…" She begins. I sigh in relief.

"Then put him on."

"Mr. Cullen," I boom in an authoritative tone. "How are you today?"

"Fine," He responds. "And yourself?"

"Grand. So I'd like to ask a few questions about your… activities."

"Go ahead." An edge of venom coats his welcoming.

"Do you abduct children?" I contain a laugh.

"No." Blunt.

"Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why don't you abduct children?" I hum.

"Because it's _illegal_?" He drips sarcasm.

"But they're tasty." I can hear Bella giggle lightly in the background of our three-way.

"Are they?" Edward sighs.

"Very much so, Sir. However, I was under the impression you keep a dungeon full of them?"

"Oh I do," He begins to play along. "You see, my _girlfriend_ seasons them." He states, fully aware of Bella on the third line. Directly after she chokes out a high-pitched laugh and I guffaw once.

"Well my fiancée like to use pepper."

"My dog doesn't like pepper."

"Does your dog sit with you at the dinner table?"

"Always."

I snort. "And the children?"

"In the dungeon."

"So how is it you keep a dungeon in an apartment?" I jokingly prod.

"I painted the guest bedroom black and took out the windows. Goodness, Sir, certainly a man of your status would know such a thing." He acts and Bella laughs.

"Of course."

"And where, may I ask, do you keep your dungeon?"

"In my sock drawer." I state.

"That's certainly space efficient." He muses.

"It is, unlike yours."

"I know. I'll keep note of this."

"I'll remind you later." Bella sings into the phone and I guffaw. Edward can't contain a chuckle.

"Yes well… I've got to go, Mr. _McCarthy_. I'm a busy man. I actually need to pick up a paying case in order to support _Bella_ here," Her and I laugh as we hear the clacking of his keyboard in the background. "Have a nice day."

**EPOV**

"Yes well… I've got to go, Mr. _McCarthy_. I'm a busy man. I actually need to pick up a paying case in order to support _Bella_ here," I smile as I imagine her own beautiful smile on the other line. Then, I open up the Internet on my computer. "Have a nice day." I hang up the phone and proceed to one-handedly go about my business.

"God damn it." I growl.

The bomb just went off at the 2, causing all the squares on my Minesweeper screen to explode.

* * *

**Sorry about the long wait! I had writer's block... So huge shoutout to FreeHell, she's the bomb**

**and helped me with the prank call! Check out her stuff. Anyway, I'm not racist and I don't hate **

**children. On the contrary, I'm half-asian and love children. Great. Thanks for reading! I hope you found it funny =]**

**kisses always, JennyCullen44**


	22. Wake Up

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**EPOV**

After I return home from work, my phone begins to vibrate within my pocket and I have to fish it out before flipping it open.

"Hello?" I fail to glance at the caller ID and lean against the wall.

"Edward!" My mother coos into the phone.

"Mom." I greet with reciprocal warmth.

"Dear, how are you?" She asks maternally.

"Coping," I shrug. "How are you, Mom?" I pace myself within the den.

"I'm fine. You know your father and I miss you." Sam nuzzles his nose against my knee.

"And I miss you both as well. Sometimes I see Dad at the hospital." I cough and tap the top of Sam's head.

"Yes, but hasn't it been ages since you've been home?"

"Home?" I glance at the ceiling.

"To Forks?"

"Ah. Yes, to Forks." I muse.

"So, dear, how is Bella?" She strays from the subject. I glance up at the current topic of conversation sitting on the sofa. A book is appropriately placed in her hands.

"Great," I glide toward her. She glances up and displays a loving, beautiful smile. "Would you like to speak to her?" I ask my mother.

"Oh, yes! If that's all right." She fails to hide her enthusiasm. I crane down to peck Bella's cheek before handing her the phone. She gazes up at me quizzically and then back down at the mobile in her palm.

"Esme." I murmur. Her eyes light up and she brings the phone to her ear.

"Hello?" She asks as I take a seat next to her.

"Great! How are you?" She shuts her book and sits up straighter.

"Really? Oh… That sounds wonderful. I'll ask him now." She pulls the phone from her ear and I raise my eyebrows in anticipation.

"She invited us for dinner." Bella smiles.

"Tonight?" I keep one eyebrow raised as she nods.

"With Alice and Jasper too." I glance at the time on the DVD player – it's late afternoon.

"Well?" I ask.

"Well?" She mocks. "It's not my mother." Her expression indicates her anticipation regarding my invitational verdict.

"She may as well be."

In the car to Forks, I tamper with the radio stations. However, maintaining neutrality, I flick on classical Debussy.

"Keeping yourself in line?" Bella muses while her eyes are on the road.

I scoff. "I'm saving you from embarrassment."

"Regarding?"

"Your loss in the debate for musical taste."

"_Loss_?" She makes a face.

"That's right." I purse my lips.

"You're delusional."

"Sure."

When we exit the freeway, weave in and out of our tiny, mutual hometown, Bella, Sam and I finally arrive at my parents' home. She pulls up on the arched, gravel driveway and stalls my Volvo in front of my old, imposing mansion. My father's Mercedes and the Whitlock's Porsche are already on the western bit of the driveway.

"Hm, memories." She murmurs and cuts the engine.

"Some good ones." I scratch my head.

"Great ones." She corrects.

"Great ones." I agree, lean over, pluck the keys from the ignition and kiss her forehead. She smiles and cranes behind her to grab the bouquet of tulips and bottle of wine.

"No drinking for you." She attempts to reprimand sternly as she pops back into place; the bottle in her right hand and the bouquet in her left.

"So bossy." I tease.

"You can't on your pain medication." She shakes a finger.

"So?" Before she can respond, I'm already out of the car and on her driver's side. I open her door for her and she climbs out, Sam in tow, with an amused expression on her face.

"You're really difficult, you know that?"

I roll my eyes. "Not like you." I sling my free arm around her and press the lock button on my set of car keys. The Volvo beeps in accordance.

"But seriously, no drinking." She states as she hands me the bottle.

"I know, love." We begin to walk. Sam's paws crunch against the gravel.

"Okay." She sighs as we reach the front steps, ascend them, and find ourselves on the porch. Bella takes a step forward to ring the doorbell and steps backward into her former place.

A moment later, the front door to my old home swings open to reveal my mother.

"Oh you came!" She claps her hands once and beams. "Come in, come in." She swings the door wide open and the three of us enter the foyer.

"Hi Mom." I smile crookedly.

"Hello darling," She cranes upward to peck both my cheeks. When she retracts to normal height, I present her the bottle. "Oh! So lovely. Thank you, Edward." She beams and takes the wine from my free hand. However, before turning to Bella, she gazes at my casted arm and maternally runs a hand over it.

"Esme." Bella interrupts. My mother turns to her.

"Bella! Oh Bella, you look so beautiful." She exclaims and Bella turns a glorious and adoring shade of pink.

"Thank you." She smiles meekly.

"How I've missed you! How long has it been? Four months since I've seen both of you?" Esme continues as she repeats her greeting of kissing both of Bella's cheek.

"I think so." She nods and hands my mother the bouquet.

"You two really shouldn't have." She sighs contentedly as she receives the tulips as well.

"Of course we should have." I refute. My mother's eyes, my eyes, meet mine and they convey indescribable warmth.

"I'm just so glad you're both back together."

"I am too, Mom." I smile and take Bella's hand within my own.

"Good. You were so foolish for letting her go in the first place." Her mouth never had a filter, causing my gaze to lock on the Oriental rug, also known as our welcoming mat.

"Just in general." Bella jokes and breaks the silence.

To my dismay, Esme laughs. "You would think a Harvard degree would fix that." My eyes bore into the intricate detail of the rug.

"Oh, we joke, Edward." Bella squeezes my hand.

"Right." I mumble.

"Darling, your sister and father are in the other room. Won't you come say hello?"

In the parlor, Alice, Jasper and my father are all sitting, poised, on the foreign sofas. All three glance up as we enter the doorway.

"Edward. Bella." Carlisle rises fluidly and silently. He makes his way toward us and embraces Bella before shaking my hand.

"Hello Dad." I nod.

"Carlisle." Bella coos happily.

"Bella!" My sister shrieks and bounds up from the sofa, straight into the love of my life's arms.

"Hey Al." Bella laughs and returns the enthusiasm.

"Edward." Jasper rises, smiles and shakes my hand.

"Jasper." I smile and return the shake.

"Hey Jazz." Bella greets as he turns to kiss her cheek.

"Bell." He emits serenity amongst the atmosphere.

At the dinner table, Alice and Jasper sit parallel to Bella and I while my parents sit at their respective ends of the table.

"Where's Annabel?" I ask while one-handedly placing my napkin onto my lap.

"With the sitter." Alice stretches from her seat.

"So you found a permanent one?" I straighten out my utensils into precise order.

"Yeah… she's in high school though so she gets all hissy when we come home late."

I snort. "What do you mean by late?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Erm… midnight?"

"Right."

"Yes, that's right." Alice snaps and Jasper places a hand over hers.

"Scary." I display a close-lipped smile.

"Like when I stab you with this fork?" She grasps the silverware into her hand and Bella's eyes protrude.

"Children." My mother assuages. My father, unfazed, merely takes an oblivious sip from his glass.

"Do it." I grin and my pixie twin mirrors a mischievous smile.

"Maybe I will." She quips and places the fork back onto the table. Esme's shoulders relax warily.

This problem is, Alice _would_ stab me with a fork.

"So everybody, tell me everything about your lives." Esme straightens out her plate of food.

"I'm coming out with my fall line." Alice trills.

"I have a new project on Meyer Street." Jasper states calmly.

"Physical therapy is a waste of money."

"I'm quitting law?" Bella's statement comes out as a question as everyone but I turn to her.

"Is that so, Bella?" Carlisle prods, intrigued. "And what will you do?"

"Possibly teach." Her cheeks turn a shade of light pink from the excessive attention.

"You'll be the hottest teacher ever." Alice tinkles. I agree with my twin internally; she would be the most attractive educator ever to grace the state of Washington.

Bella turns redder. "Alice…" She mumbles.

"All those teenage boys will be signing up for after school conferences." She giggles and Bella is now crimson.

I snort. "Appealing."

"What? You know they will be." My sister drums her fingers against the table.

"Oh, I know." I respond simply.

"That's lovely, Bella." My mother impedes cheerily.

"Thank you." She responds with a meek smile.

"Interesting…" Carlisle finally speaks. "I think you'll be a wonderful educator. But wouldn't critics argue you're throwing your degree away?" He scratches his chin.

Bella shrugs. "Hopefully I won't be flamed too badly."

"And where is it you went to school again?" My father's soothing voice wafts.

"Yale." Bella brings a forkful of salmon to her mouth.

"Oh, yes, of course," He smiles. "Unfortunately some people these days would argue that you're throwing your education away."

"That's insulting." Bella responds.

He nods. "I agree, it's ridiculous."

"Agreed. Bella was born to teach." Jasper folds his hands.

"I wouldn't say _that_, Jazz." She evades the compliment.

"You were! I was surprised you studied law."

"Why _did_ you study law?" Carlisle leans in and my heart stops.

"It was… something to keep me busy." She mumbles. _Something to keep her busy after you peaked in your douchebaggery by leaving her_, a dark voice hisses inside my head.

I cringe. "Why don't you ask me why I did law, Dad?" I attempt at a subject change.

"Yeah, why didn't you follow him in medicine?" Alice understands and aids me in the change.

"I… " For the first time, I don't have an answer to a question. After years of getting slammed with countless libel questions while in court, this is the one question I cannot answer.

It's quiet as I scan all the faces. "I don't know." I can feel Bella gazing at me from my peripheral, my parents eyeing me thoughtfully.

"I think it's who you are." Alice finally says with a giggle.

"Heartless? Thanks." I respond dryly.

"You're welcome." She grins.

"No, I think she's right. Minus the heartless portion," My father inserts his opinion. I raise an eyebrow. "Law suits you."

"Oh." I murmur.

"You pick your cases, meaning you stand up for what you believe in," He points out. "You don't fight for a random case, Edward. You pick your clients and ultimately what you believe to be right."

I have never viewed my profession in this viewpoint and I consider it as I chew thoughtfully.

I swallow. "I suppose you're right." Of course, he is never wrong.

"I am just so proud of all of you." Esme chirps. Her children and their respective partners murmur thanks.

"So how is work for you, Mom?" I spear my fork into the salad.

"I have a new project in a home down the road." She beams; Esme is an interior designer.

"I can't believe you still work." Alice shakes her head.

"Why's that, dear?" Esme asks, puzzled.

"You don't _have _to. Daddy's job pays all the bills."

"I know, Alice, but I love my job." Esme smiles.

"Respect that." I point out to my sister. She sticks her tiny tongue out at me.

"You don't love your job." She snips.

"Not lately." The ticking of the grandfather clock is the only noise heard.

"This food is amazing." Bella's soft voice suddenly impedes the silence as she compliments my mother's works.

"It is." Jasper smiles.

"Thank you, children." She beams. Esme has resorted to calling both Jasper and Bella her children, although the latter has no legal or biological relation to her.

"Did you teach Edward how to cook?" Bella questions politely.

"Yes! He's a wonderful cook." She places me on a culinary pedestal.

"He is." Bella smiles lovingly.

"Unlike Alice." I grin, anticipating her reaction.

"Piss off."

"Not at the table! Stop it you two." Esme scowls.

"So classy." I sip my water.

"Classier than you."

I scoff. "With your consistent rampages?"

"I gave birth a month ago. I'm _hormonal_." She growls and Bella giggles quietly.

"You're joking. So explain the past twenty-six years I've known you. Was that because of hormones too?"

"Oh, don't pretend you're not hormonal yourself. You're such a woman, Edward."

"_Children_," Esme attempts desperately. "Carlisle, do something." All heads turn toward the head of the table. He sips his wine and sets the glass down neatly.

"That won't do anything. It never has," He responds simply. "Just let them ride it out like they always do." All heads snap back to Alice and I. It's silent as we glare at each other, as if circling the opposing in a death match.

"Would you like to go first, being the princess that you are?" I snap.

Anger flashes across her blue eyes. "_You're_ the princess in this family." Sam begins to whine and Bella flashes her glance to him at my feet.

"I beg to differ." I quip. At this moment, a feminine growl escapes her throat and her glass of red wine flies across the table. I merely relocate my position by leaning left, and the glass does not shatter onto the rug. Rather, it hits Sam as he yelps, splattering the dark liquid amongst his sandy blonde fur.

"You're _insane_." I growl and rise vehemently from my seat. She rises with reciprocal anger but before we can attack one another's throats, an inhuman sound erupts from the eastern end of the table.

"_My rug! My rug!_" Esme shrieks. "You two, clean this up _now_. I'm so tired of you two bickering all the time. Grow up! _After_ you clean this." Five pairs of eyes stare, stunned, at the display.

My mother huffs loudly, fluffs her hair and then reseats herself. Alice and I scramble back to our seats.

"I'll… help with… the dish - es." Bella finally stammers and rises clumsily. She begins to stack the plates and Jasper rises as well.

"Esme, I'll go make coffee." He smiles calmly and an aura of serenity wafts through the thick atmosphere. When the two leave, Alice and I stare, mesmerized, with the breadbasket.

"That was childish." Esme reprimands her daughter. Alice nods, without eye contact.

"Clean it up." My father orders tranquilly.

"My _dog_." I growl.

"Just bathe him." Alice snips.

"_Stop it_. You're twenty-six years old." Esme demands. We both oblige. The four of us, the Cullens, sit quietly as we enter a phase of nostalgia; this was the epitome of a Cullen dinner.

"Sorry, Mom." I mutter quietly.

"Sorry." Alice follows my lead as our mother finally sighs.

"It's okay, darlings. Just clean it up."

…………

"You missed a spot there." Bella points out as she takes a sip of coffee from her mug. I redirect the hose and spray my service dog on the nape of his neck.

"Here?" I ask and she nods. Sam turns around and eagerly laps at the spray of the hose.

Bella giggles. "Silly Sam."

"Stupid Alice." I mutter darkly.

"Well, if you think about it, she got it worse." She smiles and takes another sip from her white mug. While Sam continues to drink from his bath, I glance to my right through the window.

Alice is kneeling on the dining room rug with a white washcloth in hand. Her brow furrows as she scrubs furiously against the wine stain while Jasper gazes on, amused.

"I suppose she did." I muse and turn back to Sam chasing his tail under the raining spray of water.

"You Cullens." Bella rolls her eyes and shakes her head.

I grunt as the stream of water continues to spill out from my hand and the porch lights illuminate our presence. My shadow splays across the sprawling grass and our reflections dance in the puddle of wine-stained water beneath Sam's paws.

**BPOV**

"That was fun." I blink once.

"Fun? I believe typical is the proper word." He scoffs.

I giggle. "That too."

"I apologize for that." He smiles dazzlingly.

"Why? I was actually expecting a blowup." I grin and slow to a stop at a red light.

"Did it disappoint?" He asks fluidly.

"No." I can't hide laughter.

"Wonderful."

"So guess what?" I accelerate.

"What, love?"

"I think we should pay Elizabeth a visit." We pass the city border into Seattle.

"Now?"

"Why not?" I shrug and continue driving.

"It's late, are you sure you're not tired?" He probes. I shake my head as the city lights illuminate the interior of his Volvo.

"Remember what her doctor said? Her parents don't visit." I state adamantly as he ponders this.

"Then drive." I oblige.

As the hospital looms into view, I tighten my grip onto the steering wheel. After we park, exit the car, enter the hospital and inform the staff of our visitation, a female nurse stops us.

"I'm afraid it's past visitation hours," She hesitates. "Only family is allowed after the hours." I turn to Edward for verification.

"On the contrary, Miss, I have power of attorney over Elizabeth Black." He iterates fluently and unleashes his charming, crooked smile.

Of course, she swoons. "I… I don't know," She stumbles. "You aren't family."

"But her family hasn't visited," His eyes dance. "We just want to see her. I'm able to by law." He leans in and she melts.

"Okay but no dogs." She recomposes herself.

"It's a service dog." He _winks_ and a wave of jealousy envelops me.

"… Right." She stammers and leads the way before I shoot him a look. He smiles apologetically and blows a kiss.

In her room I assess her current condition. Her bruising has ceased from yesterday and to my shock, her shunt has been removed.

Edward notices as well. "Her shunt…" He murmurs.

"That's fantastic." I breathe and note a fresh set of bandages over her head.

"Her brain has stopped leaking." He points out and I nod.

"Now you just need to wake up." I assuage inaudibly to the comatose girl. The atmosphere lightens as Edward and I consider the possibilities; she may actually live through this.

"Yes." Edward agrees quietly and absentmindedly runs his right hand across his casted arm. I place my fingers over the cast and suddenly wonder if he'll have use of it.

At this moment, his thumb begins to wriggle. I gaze up at him in awe and he returns the same expression of astonishment.

"Well, would you look at that?" I whisper through a smile.

"Two down, three to go." He grins crookedly and I am momentarily stunned.

"Then we can work on the whole arm." I trace a pattern into the sling.

"After we work on getting Elizabeth to wake up."

"See? Optimism." I cheerlead.

"Where would I be without you?" He sighs.

"Living a life as a cynical, callous and wealthy hermit?" I joke.

"You're probably right." He muses.

"I just hope she can pull through this." I sigh and glance at Elizabeth, my hand still on Edward's cast.

"She will." He replies bluntly.

"Poor girl." I furrow my brow and step backward from him. I venture toward her gurney as I feel his eyes on my back.

"Sweet Elizabeth." Edward finally sighs. I lightly run a hand across her blanket, smoothing the creases. Just as yesterday, I brush a finger across the cliff of her high, swollen cheekbone.

"So what were you saying about guardianship?" I murmur as I sit at the end of her bed. He paces toward me and gazes down into my eyes.

"We can litigate for legal guardianship." His reply is simple.

"So obviously there's no parental consent involved."

"Is that not the point of a litigation?" He asks dryly.

"I know that it's just… don't you think we've put them through enough already?" I trace circles into her hospital blanket.

"And what about their daughter?" He refutes quietly. I don't have answer. "Think about it Bella. How is this fair for her? She deserves a support system." He continues to murmur.

"I think we should talk to them first." I sigh.

"What do you expect they'll say?" He enters lawyer mode. Again, I don't have an answer.

"Then if she wakes up, we need to at least ask her."

"When, not if."

"When… we need to ask her." I amend.

He nods. "Agreed."

"This is going to be hell." I say inaudibly.

"It will be. But how would we lose?" He takes a step toward me.

"I know we won't lose," I furrow my brow. "That's the problem."

"I still don't see why you view it as a problem." He taps his foot.

I sigh. "Headline: Lawyer Couple Slams Dead Girl's Family For Remaining Daughter's Custody." I run my hand horizontally across thin air.

"The press was never fond of me." He shrugs and I sigh again.

"I told you I was quitting law."

"And I'm asking that you quit after one last trial." He pleads and steps toward me. I gaze into his blazing green eyes and their intensity unsettles me.

"I don't know." I say quietly yet stubbornly.

"Just look at her." He whispers. Obliging, I turn to gaze at Elizabeth once again. The bruising around her eyes and countenance has begun to fade, as well as the facial swelling. She appears as if she were sleeping; peaceful, tranquil.

I place a hand on her blanketed knee. "We'll ask her." I finally bring myself to a response.

"Thank you. And I know she'll thank you." He approaches me and I turn my head toward him.

"Why are you thanking me?"

"Because I know you don't want to do this."

"Just one last trial." I sigh and bring myself to his blazing eyes.

"Yes." He nods as I rise to stand. He leans down slowly, the tip of his nose brushing against my own before his lips touch mine. They're soft and thankful, yet an ominous feeling causes me to pull away.

"What?" He asks quizzically. In amendment, I hastily rise on my tiptoes and plant a second kiss on him. Although his mouth is chilly, I decide not to retract this time. After a moment, I finally do and draw my brows together. Edward touches his forward to mine and I sigh deeply. We stay positioned like this, that is, until I catch a glimpse of something stirring from the corner of my eye.

"Edward…!" I exclaim and grip his arm, my eyes going wide.

Elizabeth's eyelids flutter, light as a butterfly's wings. When they reclose, the lids are a shade of delicate, violet bruising. Once they flitter a second time they struggle to open again. However, on the third attempt, her lids open to reveal her sleepy, bright blue eyes, allowing them to see light after nearly a month.

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**Not a very long chapter, but I was running out of ideas.**

**I know I'm evil for the cliffhanger :) Thanks for reading as always!**

**Sorry for the second update but I need to request that you guys take my poll (it's a new one)**

**I'm letting you decide how the story ends before the sequel. Yes, the sequel :)**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	23. Hi Mom, Hi Dad

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**Elizabeth POV**

Clear, stars, blurred, clear. My eyelids undergo a battle for consciousness as they flutter against the oppression of a deep sleep. My lids are laden in lead; they weigh profoundly against my eyes. Eventually, I'm not sure after how long, I relent. They stay closed. I begin to internally wonder where I am, that is, until the pain instigates. It cracks through the core of my head and seeps, distributes, even rages throughout my entire body. Pain hugs the niches and crevices of my partially functioning brain, causing me to wince profusely.

"Mmm…" I emit a loud moan to no one in particular. "My head…"

Where's my Mom? I don't recall when I took a nap, where I took a nap, and as a matter of fact, _anything_.

"Mom," My eyelids reattempt to pry themselves open. "I don't feel well." A headache is an understatement. The raging throbs ensue, making it difficult to think. God, maybe I could snag some of Leah's pain medication. Someone clears their throat and I, in a borderline catatonic state, blindly flop my hand up and down on my bed. But wait. This isn't my bed…

The blanket is scratchy and it holds no resemblance to my supple sea of polyester fluff. The search for my childhood blanket continues and as seconds pass, my right hand grows increasingly frantic.

"Okay, who the hell stole my blanket?" My lids finally prevail and they unveil my layer of sleep.

What I absorb is not my room, nor my parents, nor my house for that matter. To my astonishment, I don't scream. I know this place. Oh, I know. I've spent my life here, yet I'm now the one in the bed. The same, sickly walls frame the room. The same buzzing, fluorescent bulbs eat away electricity on the ceiling. The same white tile lines the floor. The same musty smell of death lingers in the air.

But there's no Leah. No Jacob, no Mom, no Dad. No Doctor Cullen or no Nurse Rachel. Yet what I do spot is another Cullen.

My Cullen.

He appears the same, possibly a fraction more haggard. Of course he's still handsome, but it's as if overnight, a thin sheet of fatigue has masked his face. His attire is typical legality wear and tear: a button-up and khakis. That stupid hair of his is still the same; flyaway and untamed. I swear that he doesn't own a comb. Yet there's a woman next to him. Bella. Edward and Bella? Wait… So they _had_ gotten together – that wasn't a sliver of a notion in time. Score. She appears the same: quaint, pretty, petite and her large eyes are now masked in an atypical Bella glaze of worry. However, there's something different.

His arm. Edward's left arm is enveloped in a thick cast which defies the laws of gravity via a sling. His fingers forlornly jut out of the white plaster enveloped in the blue, repressive fabric. The strap is slung around his neck, causing his now partial proficient demeanor to be subpar of his customary professionalism.

"Dude," I manage a croak. "What happened to your arm?" Bella cracks a smile at my greeting. However, he frowns.

"Let's worry about you." His tone is soft and perplexity washes over me. Right. Why am I here? Although connected to the hospital, the only occasions in which I required a gurney were during transplants. Transplants.

The atmosphere stirs. I intend to rip my thin, hospital blanket off, but I possess no strength.

"Where? Where is it? Where is she?" I ask in a frenzy.

Bella and Edward exchange glances. "Where is what?" She questions softly.

"My kidney. Did they give it to Leah?" I shoot. Recognition masks over and Bella's lip begin to quiver, but she clamps down to prevent trembling.

"She received it, yes." Silence.

"Where is she?" I pat around my blanketed waist for the lengthy surgical scar. Once more, silence. After a moment, I cease my patting and finally take note of the thickened mood.

"I…" Bella trails and she cracks. An ominous layer of dread settles comfortably into the pit of my churning belly. "Elizabeth, she…" But she can't finish. She covers her eyes with one hand and wheels around to face the doorway.

"Elizabeth," Edward continues for her, his eyes are green planets of remorse. "Leah is no longer with us."

Those six words, the one sentence which slipped past his lips created a simultaneous reaction. A sound relevant to the ripping of steel explodes in my eardrums, and for a moment, I think it's once again the Earth fissuring to swallow me whole. But with the heartbreaking abundance of sheer fear and guilt, there is a beacon. With the screeching of my grievance, there is a feathery chorus of relief. A chorale of angels chants a beautiful a cappella in accordance to the horrifying demon of guilt.

The screeching prevails the chorus for now. "She's… She…" I choke down overwhelming hysteria and the saliva unwelcomingly burns my parched throat. "I… What, Edward? What happened?" I attempt to shake my head, yet the pain implodes once more.

"Elizabeth," He says inaudibly. "I am so sorry." The way in which he issues his apology causes me to realize that he speaks truth. The silence following his condolence rips through my battered body and finally finds a voice of its own.

"Dammit." I breathe. His face remains the same, unemotional and stone. Bella is still turned, shoulders hunched although I detect her issue a whimper.

"Let her get it out." He murmurs to her and her mahogany head of hair bobs up and down slightly. He understands, yet I don't want to hurt them with my bubbling outburst; a girl with words spilling out the sides of her mouth.

"I'm sorry," And this is when my tear ducts break. "Really, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so crude I just don't know why I'm here and why she died and how and I never go to say goodbye and, and –" I heave yet Edward cuts off my hysteric ramble.

"Don't be sorry." He assuages softly and Bella begins to slowly turn.

I continue. "I… I never got to say goodbye. I spent my life trying to save her and she… I wasn't there. What kind of sister is that?" I sob and comprise a sliver of strength to pull the scratchy blanket off my legs.

"Oh, Elizabeth." Bella sniffles and wipes her glossy eyes with the back of her hand. She begins to shuffle toward my bed.

"Bella," I shoot in hysterics. "I never got to say _goodbye_ to her." The frantic grief transforms into self-anger as I muster not shrieking.

"I know." She whispers and glances down at her shoes.

"Leah…" I moan. "Leah I am so sorry." The only sound in the room is my continuance of animalistic sobs as the two people who ever gave a damn stand silently by the doorway. The crying eventually aids the throbbing in my head and a corset of pain wraps around my ribcage and sides. This is when I first notice the tubes unnaturally protruding from my body.

"What is this?" I choke through a sob and place a finger on my catheter. It snakes out from my heart, this plastic tubing being a stranger in my chest. I then spot a second from my waist. "What… is… this…?" I repeat, yet softer this time.

"You don't remember?" Edward furrows his brow and Bella backtracks her steps.

"Remember what?" I question, puzzled, my hand still on the catheter. Bella silently slinks against his side and buries half of herself, fitting snugly against the crooks of his body. She despondently nestles against his chest. When he begins to stroke her hair I suddenly remember.

"_I told you you'd get together."_ _I grin and point during their embrace. They pull away, and although Edward maintains composure, Bella lacks hers. He pallid and she crimson, Edward withdraws his arm from her waist._

"_Come, Elizabeth. We need to get the wonderful joys of paperwork over with." He flashes a grin and Bella hides her cheeks from the world._

"_Joy."_

"_Perpetual joy."_

_After snagging a last kiss from her, Edward finally joins me in signing a plethora of legal documents regarding my emancipation, his status as power of attorney… et cetera._

"_What do I do now?" I draw my brows. His pen stops its scrawling and he lifts his head to gaze at me._

"_You're joking," He says simply and hands me his black pen. "Sign here."_

"_What?" I question as I receive the pen and scrawl my name next to his._

_I hand it back to him. "You want me to tell you what to do after we've worked so hard in regards to _your_ right of choice?" He arches a single eyebrow._

_I roll my eyes. "You're so annoying."_

"_And you're a pain in the ass." He pulls out another document and neatly spills his name across the line._

_I scoff. "Just give me the pen." The corner of his mouth raises slightly and he slaps the pen into my awaiting palm. I scribble my signature next to his perfect one to sign off my life._

_I loved his car. Being consistently air-conditioned and producing the thick scent of leather, it was enough for me to admire the hunk of metal. "You aren't a bad person," He murmurs. I was preoccupied with watching the kamikaze of raindrops racing across the passenger side window. "In fact, I think you're an amazing person." The rain pounds the metal roof of his silver child._

_I begin to slowly shake my head. "I'm a killer," I lower my gaze from shame. "I have to live with that for the rest of my life. It's all I'll be." My eyes avert to the low, green glow of the dashboard._

"_No. You're going to grow up to be something phenomenal. You'll trek uncharted territories, discover a new chemical formula, win a Nobel Prize. You'll be a heartbreaker and make Seattle, and most importantly, Leah proud." He glances at me after his miniature speech. How un-Edward of him. How… parental._

"_Thank you for changing my life, Edward." I ponder and then smile. I can't help but reminisce on the times I wish to have punched him in the face yet desired to hug him for giving a damn. _

"_You'll always have a wise mouth though." He flashes that lopsided grin and I giggle._

"_And you'll always be a jerk." But of course._

"_See? Everything's a cycle." He muses scholarly, which produces an un-suppressed self-eye roll. It's quiet for a moment, the silence leaving us both an abundant space to think. To think about what happens next, what to do, what to say, how to… cope. Albeit this bittersweet parting, I decide I want to ask him a final question. One, simple question._

"_What do you want to be in ten years?" It comes out nonchalant although my desire for the answer burns against my tongue. _

"_I want to be…" He pauses briefly. He's answering one of my questions? "I want to be married to Bella. I want to have a child." I am stunned. Truly that is the only set of words apt to describe my reaction. Edward Cullen… _confessing_ something? To me? No, he has to be on something. Probably a prescription drug. _Valium? Promethazine? _I want to ask dryly, but something within me tells me that I owe him more than that. Much more._

"_You've changed so much." I intone._

"_You said I'll always be a jerk," He grins, causing me to laugh. That's the bastard I know. "What do you want to be?" He issues and it throws me off guard. We're at a red light, giving me aptitude time to ponder. The kamikaze of droplets has not ceased, creating a sheet of unrelenting water. The light is still red; a crimson blur in the background._

"_Leah's sister." I finally issue. He merely nods, and then it happens before my eyelashes hit my cheek._

_One moment, I am achieving a level of trust with my lawyer slash comrade. The next, a truck pummels in from the left. The force slams into the driver side door, and I hear the sickening crunch of Edward's arm before it goes black._

_Black, black, black. My name. Hell. Grief. All the colors of the electromagnetic spectrum. Name it what you want, but it was black, so incredibly black, for a very long time._

My gaze snaps to the tubes protruding from virtually every angle of my body. My chest, my side, and this is when I realize the burning ache in my throat. Parched and irritated, my esophagus is scratchy from the lack of saliva. I piece together I was… _fed. _Meaning… meaning what? The pain in my head expands further and so does the increase of my heart rate. The frenzy begins.

"Elizabeth." Bella iterates and steps forward to assuage.

"Bella." I whimper and continue grazing the tubes with my gaze.

"It's okay." A hint of sadness prods at her tone.

"This is okay? What happened?" I question, exasperated.

"You hit your head in the crash." The mere mention of the event causes a searing jolt of pain to rake through my cranium.

"Wait," My eyes widen in recognition. "I was in a…"

"Coma." Edward murmurs.

"Coma." Bella whispers.

"_Coma?"_ I gape and they nod. Oh God.

"I… Oh my… what…" I jumble and mutter before it dawns on me. A cranial wound? I instinctively touch my fingers to my head and find the culprit and an unpleasant expectancy: peace fuzz.

"How long?" I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Around a month. A bit longer." A month… so when did she die?

I sigh and hiccup. "How many?" I question warily as I gently run my fingers along the lengthy, jagged scar on the right side of my head.

"What?" Edward asks quizzically.

"Stitches." Again, I sigh.

"Eighty-four. You had a shunt." Bella answers and I meet her gaze. She's still cradled into Edward.

"A shunt…?" The pain in my chest subdues.

"To drain excess fluid from your brain."

Oh no. "Is it still leaking?" My fingers stay glued to the ghastly mark.

"Well they took it out." Bella smiles and I can see, for a moment, why Edward is so crazy about her.

"Okay." Confirmation.

"Elizabeth," Edward addresses cautiously. "Are you … all right?" Now _I'm_ the ticking bomb?

"I think," I suck in deeply. "Just a headache." I then realize he is not referring to my physical condition.

"Right." He responds bluntly.

"And regarding the other situation, yes, in fact."

They are stunned. "…How?" Bella knits her eyebrows.

"I've been waiting for it," I iterate simply. "Not because I didn't love her, but because I loved her too much."

Silence. I take this as my cue to continue.

"She doesn't have to suffer anymore," There is a simultaneous ebb of contentment and despair to my conclusion. "And I know she's watching. I'm not afraid for her."

"Pardon? Do explain." Edward runs a hand through his tresses.

I grunt as I attempt pulling my knees up; they crack due to thirty plus days of inactivity. "Well, Edward. Why am I alive?"

I've always taken a sense of pride in dumbfounding the fat cats of the capitalistic system. Always pleased with besting my libel employee, I pull my lips back into an incongruous smile. Before he can open his mouth, Sam, the service dog, nips at Edward's ankles. My eyes snap to the German Sheppard and then back to his owner.

"Don't get a seizure on me." I demand in bewilderment. He now smiles, close-lipped. Of course, he evaded my prior question.

"He wants to know if he can."

"Can what?" I furrow my brow and then wince in pain.

Bella appears alarmed. "Say hi." Edward states simply.

I sigh. "Yes. Sam, come here." At my word, the dog ruefully trots to the side of my gurney and I beckon for him with a single bed pat.

He hops on. "Edward?" I raise my head after Sam licks my fingers.

"Yes?" He redirects softly.

"When did she die?" The question does not come out as sadly as it did in my mind.

"Two weeks after you went comatose." I ponder this for a moment as the dog plops himself lazily yet carefully in front of me.

"I don't want to know how she died." I finally murmur inaudibly.

"She didn't die of leukemia." His voice, like an angel of delivery, wafts. I snap my head up to meet his gaze.

"Thank God. Oh, thank God." And then I begin to cry so hard that I think that the corset of pain around my ribcage actually hasn't gone away. Or ever will.

**EPOV – 5 Days Later**

"Food." I declare.

"Food?" Bella questions musingly from her book.

"Food." I repeat.

"Food." She nods and rises from the loveseat.

"Honey, I'm home?" It is issued as an unintentional question and I fling my briefcase, one-handedly, of course, over the sofa in a cliché manner.

"Yes you are, you dapper man." She teases and approaches me.

"Dapper?" I grin. "You're pushing it." She giggles appealingly and presses her palms against my chest.

"How's the arm, Mr. Roboto?"

"Great, Ma. Thanks." I roll my eyes.

"Wonderful." She mocks in a chipper tone and I cannot help but smile at my darling Bella.

"I'm on to finger _num__é__ro trois,_" I flex my hand horizontally. "_Voil__à_." Lo and behold, my pinky wriggles.

"_C'est magnifique_." She applauds and I grin wildly.

"_Merci, ma ch__é__rie._ _O__ù__ est mes aliments?"_

"What?" She giggles.

"Where's my food. Grief, I'm starved." I wrap a tangle of her glorious mahogany hair around my wrist momentarily before letting it go.

"Make it yourself." She murmurs dreamily.

"That's callous."

"Kiss." She demands, pouts and puckers upon her tiptoes.

We kiss. Our meal is comprised of a pseudo-college two course meal: a succulent entrée of ramen noodles and cold pizza for desert.

"God, we're so cultured." I comment and sit across from her at the island counter.

"Right?" Bella nibbles her quote-on-quote desert.

"We need to shop."

"I think we're doing okay." She grins.

"College was entertaining and all but I'm not up for round two of a freshman fifteen." I indicate at the MSG-laden soup.

"You're no fun." She scowls.

"I'm loads of fun, doll."

She hides a smile. "You're a lawyer."

"So?"

"That's impossible." Bella states.

"Speaking of lawyers I need to discuss Elizabeth with you," I sip Chenin Blanc and clear my throat. "This will be fun, of course."

A chocolate eye roll. "Shoot."

"She's been with Jacob for the past two days." Bella raises her eyebrows.

"And?"

"And," I continue. "I see it as a potential factor in winning our case against her parents."

"You said this was fun?" Bella teases and tears off a bit of crust.

"Listen and I'll make sweet, sweet love to you later." I half-joke. _Half_.

"Oh really," She sounds out the last word mockingly. "It's been about eight years, Romeo. Sure you don't have cobwebs?"

I'd forgotten how easily Bella gets her way. "No," I partially laugh. "Stay on track, here."

"I am, _monsieur_." She purrs. Why is that she manages to look ravishing behind a plate of cold pizza and a bulky, Yale Bulldogs sweater?

"Jesus, Bella," I struggle to suppress a smile. "Besides, Jacob really cannot take proper care of Elizabeth at the moment. He has class to attend to." I clear my throat.

"Classes?" She leans forward.

"Police Academy." I state.

"Wow." Bella retracts elastically and I nod.

"And he should be dropping by any time now." I intone.

"You're joking." She mutters and I shrug.

The door rings at this moment in time. Speak of the devil.

"I've got it." I smile and proceed to rise, yet she shakes her head vigorously.

"Don't worry about it." She rises faster, despite the fact she nearly flips the table. "Do not say anything." She snaps, flustered and I choke down a laugh.

"Then go." I grin and straighten out the dismayed table.

**BPOV**

A glance through the peephole confirms the visitation. I unchain the lock, jiggle the ridiculous doorknob and swing the barrier open to reveal a towering Jacob Black.

"Hi, Jacob." I smile warmly.

"Bella," He grins. "Missed me?" I instinctively glance down at my chest and am relieved to discover I never took my sweatshirt off.

He guffaws loudly at my action. "I know you did." His toothy grin is wide, yet it does not reach his eyes.

"Sure." I purse my lips and then retract to let him inside.

"Notice anything different? Hot, right?" He questions as he takes a step across the threshold. Before my mouth opens, I freeze.

His hair is gone. Once unruly and below the ears, Jacob's hair is now shaven into a buzz cut. The prickly, raven hairs of his scalp reveal his forehead and ears, and someone with a similar hairstyle steps out from behind him.

"Hello Elizabeth." I greet softly. Her hair is similar in terms of length, yet the prickly stubble is glazed in a shade of light brown. My eyes avert to the macabre scar trailing jaggedly against her pallid, partially naked scalp.

"Hi." She smiles, yet just as her brother, it does not meet her eyes. I study the siblings and wonder as always how the two could be related. The hair color, the complexion, the eyes, the height.

"How are you feeling?" Jacob and Elizabeth step into the apartment and I shut the door quietly behind them.

"Headaches." She replies simply.

"Is that supposed to be all right?" I ask her brother.

He shrugs. "They discharged her, didn't they?"

"Is she on medication?" I cross my arms.

"Valium." She blinks and at this moment, Sam's paws patter around the corner.

"Shouldn't she be in the hospital?" I question, concerned.

"They said she was capable and if the pain became too much I should take her back." Jacob sing-songs and gallops past me into the den.

"Don't worry, Bella." Elizabeth smiles sorrowfully directly before Sam arrives at my side.

I sigh. "Okay. Would you like something to eat?" Sam lovingly nuzzles his nose against her knee.

"I'm not hungry, thank you." He voice is soft, in pain.

"I am, thanks babe." Jacob calls and cackles from the den.

"Then come and get it." Edward's voice growls and counters from the kitchen.

"Why did he shave his head?" I turn and ask Elizabeth lightly. My first notion is familial equality in resonance toward their joint, parental neglect.

"Police Academy." She shrugs.

"What?" I gape, once more. I had thought Edward was joking.

"Academy of Police?" She amends.

"I know but I mean… I don't know what to say." I scratch my head in accordance to her scratching Sam.

"It's apocalyptic." She grins, mimicking Jacob's – their mutual trait.

"Agreed." I sigh and turn to amble toward the den. She follows.

"I like your apartment." She murmurs.

"It's not mine."

"I like his apartment."

"How did you know?" I question quizzically.

"I'm not stupid, man." She rolls her eyes and plops down noisily onto the white sofa.

"Well, tell him that."

"I like your apartment, Edward." Elizabeth calls out.

"Thank you." He appears in the doorway, beautiful as ever. As he glides, Elizabeth shuffles closer to her brother on the sofa and I uproot to nestle into the loveseat.

He sits on me.

"Jacob. Elizabeth." He nods to each of the remaining Black children.

"Sup."

"Hey."

"Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?" His countenance, soft, contrasts the mood.

"Shoot."

"Sure."

"Jacob," He turns to him. "You are eighteen?"

"You got it, boss." Jacob flashes the grin and turns to wink at me; indicating some type of insinuation. I shudder.

"And Elizabeth, you are thirteen?" Edward ignores him.

"I'll be fourteen in a week." She amends and her power of attorney nods.

"Where have you been staying for the past five days?" He questions softly.

"With this thing. Recovering." She points to her sibling and he waggles his eyebrows.

"Demoted to a _thing_, I like that."

I giggle. "And Jacob…" I trail and he snaps his attention toward me. "You realize you're old enough to take care of your sister."

Silence. "Aren't you going to ask where the hell our parents are?" He drips in a low voice.

"Where are you parents?" Edward swoops in.

"Fucking around. Mourning. I don't know. Next question." Jacob states flatly, bitterly.

"As Bella said, you are old enough to care for Elizabeth." Edward's angular face is stone.

"Have you taken a look at me, boss?" He states, dryly.

"I have." He counters unemotionally.

"Well," Jacob's lips pull back into a grin. "I was hoping that's what Bella does."

"Gross." I mutter and Edward chuckles.

"So what will happen to your sister?" He questions, composed.

Jacob's countenance loses its edge of humor. "In all seriousness, I love my sister. Hell, she's all I have. But the point is that I'm trying to actually do shit with myself rather than rot away like our darling mother and father in the shadow of the valley of death over there," He points behind his shoulder. "I don't have the time to watch her. I wish I did, I really wish. She deserves better than to live with me anyway," He pauses. "She deserves you two."

"So I take it you've moved out of your parents' home." I issue.

He nods. "I've leased a place. Surprise." He grins again.

"And I've heard you're attending Police Academy?"

"Yes."

"Good for you." I smile and lean my head against Edward's waist.

"Entering the line of service like your father?" He questions and Jacob's face falls flat.

"Is that a serious question?" He mutters.

"My apologies." Edward amends simply.

"No, if for some reason you thought it was. That's the farthest reason why I would join the line of service."

"Then why did you?" I direct. He gazes at me for a moment, and then finally lands his stare on Elizabeth.

"We all have to grow up sooner or later." He doesn't blink.

"Tell Edward that." Elizabeth grins and so do I.

"Ouch." My lover muses and I snuggle into his basic, white t-shirt.

"Cute. Okay guys, it was nice, but I need a drink." Jacob stretches and begins to stand.

"I'll get you a Scotch if you stay put." Edward does not blink either and Jacob ponders this for a moment.

"A lawyer breaking the law, I like it."

"Everything is illegal these days." Edward smirks.

"I'll drink to that, Teflon Don."

"And you're in Police Academy?" I raise an eyebrow.

"And he went to Harvard Law?" Jacob mimics my eyebrow raise and points to Edward.

"Yeah, great set of morals." I poke him.

"He's a _lawyer_." Elizabeth rolls her eyes but then winces in pain. Jacob pats her shoulder lightly.

"Exactly." He issues.

"It means you're a public server." I scowl and he swoops down to peck my temple.

"Aren't policemen?" He turns to grin at Jacob.

"My man, where is that beauteous Scotch you promised me?"

"Coming right up."

"This is bribery." I attempt and the room erupts into the laughter.

"Oh Bella, even I know that lawyers thrive off bribery." Elizabeth smiles.

"Not _toward_ a client." I counter.

"We're rebels." Jacob issues simply.

When Edward returns with the glass in his right hand, Jacob receives it heartily. I attempt not to ogle the fact he knocked back the whiskey just as easily as one guzzles water.

He sighs in refreshment and smacks his lips together. "Example one of why she needs to move in here ASAP."

"So Elizabeth," Edward smiles resumes his place on my lap. "How do you feel about your parents?"

She straightens out. "Normally, I love them. That's a normal thing to do: love your parents. But this is not a normal situation," Her tone climaxes bitterly. "Why don't you ask me how I feel about my parents disregarding normality?"

Thirteen years old. "All right, answer your own question."

"I hate them."

"I bet you don't _hate _them." I blink and she turns to me.

"They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder," She pauses. "That's not true. Absence formulates loathing. Surely you would know that."

Thirteen years old and she already has me figured out.

"Bravo."

"But look at us now." Edward counters. "Who is to say in a decade you won't love your parents? Do you _want_ us to fight for your custody?"

Again, she takes a moment to ponder. "Because when you two were together, it was good. You were good to one another. It was you," She points to Edward. "And it was you," She points to me. "No one else. Once upon a time your reciprocal love evaded everything and only resided within Bella and Edward. Not Bella, Edward and some other girl. Not Bella, Edward and some other boy. For me, it was Elizabeth, my parents, and Leah. Elizabeth, my parents, leukemia. It was always something. Sharing love with a disease hinders your ability to really know what love is. There's always a boundary, and the fact that my parents consistently cheated on me with Leah especially debilitates my ability to know what familial love is. At least you two loved, to the fullest, however many years ago. You had some room to spark another flame because it was _balanced_. My situation is completely one-sided. I'm so tired, after thirteen, almost fourteen years, of having to chase my parents and beg them to love me. Jacob stopped. Jacob is eighteen. Jacob is smart. I know that they will never, ever, love me like they loved Leah. And to me, the small sliver they possess is not enough. Bella is your world Edward, don't think I don't see it in your eyes. It's obvious. Take a look into my Mom's eyes, my Dad's eyes. I implore you. See what they see when they look at me. My Dad is better than her but a divorce would be icing on the cake, wouldn't it? It's a package deal. How I feel won't change, it's already been a decade plus yes. And I don't give a damn what you think about it."

"Ditto." Jacob yawns.

Elizabeth clutches her head. "God, that gave me a headache."

I glance at Edward, dumbfounded. I half expect him to implode, but the corner of his mouth raises into my favorite, imperfect smile.

"I think that's a yes."

* * *

**Happy Easter, guys! Hope you liked it as always**

**Thanks so much for reading and... Happy happy happy birthday -mAcKiE-mOo- ! =]**

**I hope you enjoy your present**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	24. I Know I'm A Screwup

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

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**BPOV**

"You realize you're throwing away your education." He peers at me through a set of wire-brimmed glasses. They're perched on his nose, very atypical, very wary of the plethora of people trickling in and out of the clammy office.

"Excuse me?" I iterate in strained terms of civility and fidget with my purse.

"You went to Yale Law and now you'd like to," The headmaster coughs once and proceeds to sloppily wipe his mouth with a handkerchief. "Teach."

"Yes," I repeat. "I would like to teach."

He ponders this for a moment and I glance uneasily at Elizabeth. She has a floral, creamy yellow scarf wound around her head. The fabric swathes any indication of her hospital bandages, all of which keep her lengthy surgical scar unexposed - something Edward would rather not have on his already guilt-laden conscious. Although not bald, no thirteen year old with merely stubs of hair would venture into public without any terms of a guising defensive mechanism.

She raises her eyebrows and shrugs. "Well, Ms. Swan, you certainly have the credibility to," He issues in a long drawl. "But it is most definitely a shame you have decided to… abandon your law degree."

"Why is that a shame?" I challenge.

Surprise trickles across the creases in his face. "Well, it's just the salaries are vastly disproportionate."

"So?"

He attempts re-composure. "A law degree, your current job, I would imagine, earns you a seven-figure salary. Teaching, my dear, only generates a six-figure."

"I don't mind." I shrug and proceed to zip and un-zip my purse continuously.

"Pardon?" Astonishment pools across his countenance once more. "But you must be very bright. This is surely a mistake."

"Thank you," I assess the compliment. "But this is not a mistake."

"So you desire to demote yourself from a seven-figure wage?"

"If you'd like to consider it in that terms, yes." My fidgeting fails to cease.

"I don't understand." He furrows his thickened brows and shuffles in his swiveling, leather academic throne.

"Can't you get she wants to teach?" Elizabeth intercedes and I turn crimson.

"Yes, little lady," He condescends. "But your mother here doesn't understand the mistake she's making." At the latter, I've surpassed the shade of crimson.

"She's not my mother." She responds simply and I nod.

"Well," He shrugs. "Ms. Swan is unaware of the severity of her decision."

"Then why aren't you a lawyer?" I snap.

"I enjoy educating children." He responds, a bit taken aback.

"Then please, with all due respect, accept that we both have similar tastes."

He scratches the base of his chin. "Well you need a degree."

"I was wondering how that worked. I already have a Masters in law." The last word comes out as a squeak.

"You can just take an online course for a year." He issues dully.

"Awesome," Elizabeth chirps brightly. "Now that that's over with, we've got some other business to get down to. She's also here to enroll me into your school."

He frowns. "It's November." I close my eyes in anticipation toward her assertiveness.

"And I've been comatose." She quips cheerily and of course, I wince.

"Oh… erm…" He fidgets. There is a silence. "School policy indicates that there are no acceptances past a certain date."

"But she's very intelligent." I counter. His beady, black eyes blink at me from behind the glasses.

"I am not discerning that. I'm discerning that fact that it is far past the enrollment date."

"Well, that's a shame." I mock him; my patience level has far exceeded its boundary.

"What grade would she be in?" He relents slightly.

"Freshman." Elizabeth smiles.

"And you are not her mother?" The headmaster turns to me. The ticking of his clock ticks and tocks ominously, and it is then I decide his office is just as oppressive as Edward's.

"No."

"Do explain." He gestures with a portly hand.

Elizabeth and I exchange brief glances. "Well, it's complicated." She mumbles and he leans toward us.

"Are you her guardian?" He readjusts his metal spectacles.

"I'm working on that." I issue nervously.

"How do you mean?"

"My…" I trail and pause to fidget. "Colleague… is her power of attorney. Him and I are filing a litigation against her parents and our hope is that the court will process the suit and deem it legitimate any day now." Oh God.

"What?" His eyes bug.

"Child neglect." I bite my lip. His beady eyes snap to Elizabeth.

"And she is staying with you?" He runs a hand through his receding hairline.

"For now," I nod. "But I need to get the green light from the courthouse. In fact, if you'll excuse me a moment, I'll give them a call right now." I issue a meek smile and he nods, perplexed.

"So how was your weekend?" Elizabeth attempts conversation with the headmaster as I clumsily rise to fish my phone out of my purse. Miraculously, I do not waver nor obliterate any bones within my feet. Oh, the perpetual joy of living with a man: they don't force heels upon you.

"Sorry." I issue and amble hurriedly past the oak door.

It takes three rings and two people at the courthouse to maneuver around via telephone before I reach Judge Masen.

"Hello, Judge." I breathe anxiously.

"Isabella, dear, how are you?" He greets.

"Fine, thank you. I was just calling to see if you've heard, or come across, the litigation filed against the Black family." I state quietly in the school's hallway.

"Hmm…" He murmurs. "I believe I did glance at that earlier." I smile to myself, in the empty hallway, as Edward and I only filed the suit yesterday.

"Have you brushed up on the specifics?" I subconsciously run a finger across a set of blue lockers.

"It's about that girl vying for medical emancipation, if I am correct."

"She won that case, but yes, it is the same girl. Edward Cullen and I filed a joint litigation." I shift.

"And why is she involved in another suit?" Genuine curiosity cakes the Judge's tone.

"Child neglect." I respond inaudibly.

"Is that so?" He ponders. "Isa, dear, do refresh my mind." He uses the familiar, loathsome nickname issued while he was pulling strings for me at Yale.

I exhale, particularly at the name. "Do you recall the death of her sister?" I'm nearly whispering.

"Oh yes, my, that was tragic. It was in the press, wasn't it?" Goddamn journalists.

"It was," I confirm. "But her parents… they've failed to be… properly present during her own accident."

"That's right – the poor girl was in that terrible accident with Cullen. Wait, you said he filed this suit with you?"

"Yes, sir." I turn to lean against the lockers.

"How is he doing?"

"He's recovering," I smile. "And so is Elizabeth."

"Hm. Send him my regards. As for the suit, I'll look to see if it's in my office… it should be around here somewhere…" He fumbles in the background and I tap my flats against the linoleum.

"Take your time." I chirp.

After a moment of shuffling, his voice regains control of the silent conversation.

"Found it." The smile in his voice is apparent.

"Great." I jiggle my left leg anxiously and bite my lip.

"Let's see… Yes, ah… Coma… Hm. Parents…" His mumbles are broken and incoherent as he hastily flips through the report. The anxious jiggling does not cease.

"It's interesting," He concludes. "But what was the purpose of your call? To merely see if it had gone through?"

"Well," I close my eyes. "I was hoping to see if it could be deemed legitimate and…"

"And?"

"If she has permission to stay with me."

"I don't know, Isabella. The court has to grant you that permission and we don't even have a set date or Judge." He sighs.

I groan. "That could take ages to process."

"The girl has nowhere to live?"

"Nowhere." I confirm.

"Have you contacted her parents?" He questions.

"Edward has…" I open my eyes.

"Cullen? Right, you're colleagues on this," _And lovers_, I think to myself. "So what did they say?"

"They didn't pick up."

"No returned calls?"

"Unfortunately not."

"Grief, you're really leaving me with no choice." I cannot hide a smile and I begin to pace down the hallway.

"Perhaps we could attempt to contact them now? On a three-way call? I apologize for the haste but I'm currently trying to enroll her in school."

"Ah. Enrollment? You've always had a heart of gold, my dear. But I do suppose we could give it a shot. Just give me a moment, please." There is a continuance of shuffling and eventually, the beeping of a set of dialed numbers.

The phone rings, oppressively, ominously. I stop counting after the fifth one.

_Hi, you've reached the Black family. We're not here right now, but if you could leave your name and number at the beep, that would be great_. The chipper, robotic voice of Rebecca Black reverberates through the phone and I anxiously twirl a strand of hair around my finger.

"They didn't answer." Clearly.

"That's how it's been." I respond flatly.

"I really don't have a choice here." The patriarchal judge sighs in accordance.

My heart flutters. "So is that a grant of permission?"

"I suppose it is. I have to send it through the system but as of now, I'll have to issue Mr. Cullen temporary custodial permission deeming that he is her power of attorney."

"That's fine, thank you!" I bound down the hall.

"Is that all, dear?"

"Oh, um… Judge… I enjoyed law and working alongside you and my other colleagues but this… This will be my last case." I squeak.

There is a silence. "Shame. You were a wonderful asset."

I sigh. "I would just like to thank you, so _so_ much for everything you have done for me." I pause outside the office.

"It was my pleasure. Good luck to you on everything – both this case and whatever else you're planning in life."

"And one last thing, Sir?" I bite my lip.

"Of course."

"Well," I unlatch the door handle to the Headmaster's office and quietly creak the oak open. "I was wondering if you could speak to the academic authority…"

The man behind the desk and Elizabeth turn to gaze at me. "Oh, yes, well, give the phone then." I pry the phone from my ear and offer it to him with a sheepish smile.

"What's this?" The Headmaster raises his eyebrows as he receives it.

"Seattle's court system." I shrug and Elizabeth grins at me.

"So am I in?" She hops up from her dingy, juvenile seat.

I turn to glance at the Headmaster, who is now grudgingly jotting notes and grunting into my phone.

"Goodness, Liz, you're going to be living with two people who run this city's judicial system. You should grow accustomed to slipping past the cracks in any situation you'd like." I smile and shift my weight to my left leg.

"You sound like Edward." She laughs and daringly plucks a pen from the Headmaster's _World's Best Principal_ mug.

I blush. "Okay, let me rephrase that: yes, you're in."

She grins. "Much more Bella-esque." The pen is tossed in the air, caught, and placed back into the mug.

Everything is put into place eventually. Isn't it?

**EPOV**

"Hi Mr. Cullen. Hello. Hello." A portly man saunters into the room with a teenage girl in tow. I'll murder Jessica.

"Hello," I greet, feigning warmth, and gesture toward the empty chair. "How may I help you today?" He sits himself down and the teenager lingers by the door. She sports some type of ridiculous Spiderman hat and tenaciously consumes a cone of ice cream.

I raise my eyebrows slightly and lean back into my leather chair, indicating for him to commence.

"Well," He begins gruffly. "My neighbor's been cuttin' down trees into my lawn."

"And?"

"I'd like to sue him."

"Hence you coming to my office." I continuously click and unclick a pen.

"Dad, when can we go?" His daughter asks loudly. We both turn to gaze at her.

"God damn it, Sam. Be quiet." He growls and her brows draw in to complete a countenance of anger. However, it is my dog who responds to the man. Sam the Dog patters toward his seat as Sam the Girl gazes in awe.

"My apologies, I believe my dog has the same name as your daughter." I smile for a flitter of a second.

"Cool! Can I pet him?" Her raven locks bounce, a picturesque moment pertaining to memories of Alice, as she bounds toward the chair.

"I'm afraid not." I toss the pen into the air.

"Why?" She pouts and her blue eyes crease back into disenchantment.

"He's a service dog."

"Oh."

She takes a bite of her cone and it crunches, causing a sickening snap in opposition to the silent atmosphere.

"Can't you see I'm trying to talk here?" Her father lashes and I raise an eyebrow at this severity.

"Keep your temper in line." She mutters and juts a hip out. Spunk.

"You're in for it," He hisses and turns around toward me. "So what was I saying?"

"In for what?"

"What?"

"What is she in for?" I ask simply. She meets my gaze briefly and I finally land it on my plaques of achievement on the western wall.

"That's parental business." He crosses his arms.

"Don't come into a lawyer's office and insinuate abuse."

"Who said I was going to abuse her?" This man says gruffly.

"No one," I shrug. "But do not come into my office and put on that show."

"I don't believe I know what you're talking about." Behind this man, his daughter grins. She can't be more than fourteen. Fifteen? Maybe sixteen. Definitely _déjà vu_ regarding Alice.

"Mister…?"

"Patterson."

"Mister Patterson. I do not appreciate the way you're regarding your daughter."

"It's none of your _business_." He growls and I rise from my seat.

"Mister Patterson, I will see you and your daughter to the door now." I gaze at him expectantly and he growls.

"What a waste of goddamn money."

"Sure is a waste. Shame I charge so much," I issue dryly and make my way around the table. "Sir," I open the door and gesture for him to exit. He shoulders past me, but before his eccentric daughter can flit after him, I speak. "You. Go get a lollipop from Jessica." I smile at this young version of my sister, and her blue eyes enlighten.

"Thank you!" She grins and bounds past me through the doorframe. I sigh and shut the door behind me, allowing myself to be enveloped within the oppressive walls of my office.

Fifteen minutes later, another man sits across from me. He's overdressed in a blazer and I clear my throat in anticipation. After one glance and a handshake, the man begins his droning and I subconsciously drift in and out of reality.

After who knows how long, I redirect my attention toward him. "…The system is perceptibly flawed. Here you have corporate America, running around with this bourgeoisie misogynist generation of pigs."

"Misogynist? Maybe in the office but not in the strip club."

He laughs. "Touché. But I'm saying these commercial hounds will sprint after anything that's green and has Franklin's face on it."

"And?" I issue dully, bored beyond my years. My client is seated across from me, my darkly paneled desk being the only barrier.

He speaks with animated hand gestures. "The point is that the business schools – take Harvard for example – do not teach pupils any terms of ethicality. Sure, plug in some statistics, logistics, quantum physics for all I care. But these students walk away with a nice hat and a scroll of paper in their hands. Not _one_ bit of morality instilled in them," He leans back and stuffs his hands into his pockets. "Shit, it's like selling your soul to the Devil by stowing off to Ivy League these days."

"That's nothing new." I muster anything contrary to monotony in my tone.

"Our generation was supposed to bring peace, yeah, yeah, all that. Ha! But look at us now: destroying and corrupting this nation on a silver platter of Masters degrees."

"Of course. It's a capitalistic nation. What would you like me to do about it?" I haven't bothered to whip out a notepad, rather, I gaze idly at the ghastly shade of green my walls are painted.

"My partner. The guy ripped off my idea."

"Did you have a patent?" I sigh and run a hand through my hair.

"No." He crosses his arms and I cup my neck with my free hand.

"Surely you would know there is a .0065 percentage rate of me being able to do anything about it."

"So? You're a fantastic lawyer –"

"Thank you."

"- Like with that one case. The girl you represented who wanted medical emancipation?"

It hits a nerve and I guise a wince. "Sir, I've got a tight schedule and I'm afraid I won't be able to represent you. Too little evidence." I shrug, feigning remorse.

His face falls. "But you're a magnificent lawyer! You can win anything, I've seen you do it."

"Again, thank you, but I'm far too busy. Please, my secretary will escort you out," I smile briefly. "Jessica? Could you show this gentleman the door?" A moment later, she breezes in with a prosthetic smile plastered onto her face.

"Sir, this way please." He glances back at Jessica, then at me.

"My apologies." I say simply before he is ushered out.

The door is shut. "Jesus," I mutter to Sam and lean back in my chair. He perks his head up to gaze curiously at me. "That guy was a nut."

I am suddenly tired of work and am overwhelmed with a burning desire for Bella. A good dose of her would be excellent at this moment in time. Well, forever, if you ask me. However, I realize after a moment of daydreaming, that this feeling is instinctual. I glance hastily at the date on my computer and silently congratulate myself for discovering the cryptic puzzle of the dreaded anniversary remembrance.

Today is the day I followed her to the edge of the forest, however many years ago. Eight. I dust the cobwebs from my mind as I let the memories trickle in. The shimmer of her mahogany locks in the sun, the ridiculous blazer and rebellious flats being simultaneously kicked off. The volume of her chocolate eyes as she discovered my hopeless presence for her, the smoothness of her milky skin. Eight years? That long? God, I'm old.

"Eight years." I raise my eyebrows to Sam. He blinks once before splaying out on the Oriental rug, the one I still loathe the firm for providing. He whines and resets himself, trotting off the rug and over to the wooden sea of a floor.

"You hate it too." I state.

At that point, I'm too tired to deal with bitter victims of both paternal authoritative figures and the capitalistic system. I rise from my seat, grab my jacket and keys and stride out the room, Sam trailing. Jessica looks up from her counter.

"Tell them I'm off for the rest of the day." I one-handedly shrug on the peacoat and she nods.

The cold blast of Seattle's autumn wind mitigates my cheeks. I wrap the coat tighter around my body as I attempt to ward off hypothermia by chattering my teeth. Sam and I begin to walk down the block. I ignore my rented Volvo – I can't stand the hunk of metal. It smells like soapy water and burnt leather. I'll have to return the thing soon. I miss my own, but alas, it is in car Heaven.

In spite of the cold, I stop in front of a floral shop. Sam stops loyally at my side and I glance down at him. Oh, why not?

**BPOV**

"It's freezing." I shiver as I unlock the door to Edward's apartment. Elizabeth stumbles in after me and the tip of her nose is flushed pink. She nods lucidly and hurries over to the den. I have no car keys to throw in the bowl; Edward somehow convinced me that he can aptly drive one-handedly. For some reason, I obliged. We walked - a joke of a decision in this weather.

I do, however, toss the mail onto the foyer's décor table. "Headache?" I follow and wrap my jacket tighter. She nods as I see her plop onto the sofa.

"It's bearable though." She sighs and lays flat.

"I'll get you your medication." I volunteer and proceed to venture into the guest bedroom which, for the time being, is Elizabeth's room. I pluck several orange vials from her nightstand.

"Which one is it?" I mumble and look up to see her with her arm flung over her eyes.

"I don't know, just get me anything." She mutters.

I glance down at the vials in my hands. "Valium? Percocet? Opiate?"

"Valium." Her arm is still over her eyes.

"Valium it is." I smile and place it in her palm. I turn to retrieve her a glass of water from the kitchen.

As she's downing her cartel of drugs, I sit myself at the island counter with the mail. Sifting through, I note it is only bills, advertisements and… I pause at an oversized, fuchsia pink envelope. I pluck it out of the group and proceed to rip the top open. Out spills a wedding invitation:

_Dear Family and Friends,_

_We invite you to share this special day with us_

_on the 29__th__ of November, 2008_

_Ceremony will be held at St. Peter's Church_

_Reception following at the Ritz-Carlton_

_Please attend, if you can! Best wishes,_

_Rosalie Lillian Hale_

_&_

_Emmett Paul McCarthy_

Beneath is a black and white, professional photo of them embracing before a tropical beach. Typical. The writing is in small, pink script and it is blatant that Rose made the invitations. However, what throws me off is the date – the wedding is in two weeks.

I dial her number and she picks up.

"Hey girl, I'm in the middle of a shoot right now."

"Oh," I blush. "Sorry, Rose. I was just calling about the wedding."

"You got the invitation!" She squeals. "Marvelous. I said you were the Maid of Honor, didn't I?"

"You did?" Not again.

"Oh… I guess not. Silly me. I know the Maid is supposed to help you with the invitations and all that, but I just needed to get it done by myself. I'm so sorry." I sigh in relief.

"It's perfectly fine." I grin.

"Great! But I really want you to see the dress… Muh, what time is it now?" She questions and I glance at the stove time.

"Three o' five."

"That's not too late, is it? Here, tell you what. Can you come pick me up at my photoshoot and we'll grab some eats and check out the dress?"

"I don't have a car." I attempt to sound forlorn.

"Oh well, just get over here. I'm on Twilight Street, you know, by that building Jasper helped construct?"

I sigh. "Right. Okay, I'm coming now."

"Awesome, I'll call Alice."

I snap my phone shut and rise from the counter.

"Elizabeth?" I ask softly.

"Mmm?" She responds, eyes closed on the sofa.

"I need to go out for a bit. Will you be all right?" I question gingerly.

"Yeah, I'm just going to take a nap." Her response is muddled by medication-induced fatigue. "Bye." She yawns.

…………

Rose is wrapping up her photoshoot. She's advertising a new line of chic, _à__ la mode_ coats off Alice's winter catalog. The male model she's currently groping for the camera flash is strikingly handsome, yet dull in beauty compared to Edward. Tottering in God-knows-how-high heels, her back faces the camera as she dominantly grips the lapels of her designated colleague's beige trench coat. She glances fiercely over her shoulder, her body pressed against the man as he raises his chin slightly to extenuate his defined jaw line.

The flashes go off several more times as I patiently sit behind the plethora of cameramen.

"All right, that's a wrap." One of them issues and Rose releases herself from the male model. She fluffs her hair and then spots me before flashing a bright smile.

"Hey Bell." She catwalks over to me in her devastatingly high heels and black peacoat.

"Hey Rose."

She grabs her purse from next to me and begins to fish through its contents. However, the male model approaches us.

"Hey." He nods to Rose and I.

"Colin." She nods but does not look up.

"Hi." I greet meekly.

"So, Rose," He leans against the wall. "Want to get a beer?" He stuffs his hands into the pockets of the coat from the shoot. At that moment, Rose receives a sparkling trinket from her purse and slides it on her ring finger.

She holds her hand up and he grins. "Nice ring. So want to?" He does a hair flip.

"I'm engaged," She shrugs. "Maybe Bella here wants to." I scowl at her.

"Bella. Pretty name. So is _she _engaged?" He smiles coyly and meets my gaze briefly.

"Nope." Rose responds dully and pulls out a compact mirror.

"I have a boyfriend." I nudge her maliciously.

"Oh. Right," She snaps the mirror shut. "Sorry Colin, she has Romeo at home."

"I hate how you call him that!" I pout and she flashes another smile.

"He's all right, I just can't give up the nickname," She says to me and then turns to Colin. "Sorry, she's got a boyfriend."

"Well it can't be that serious." He grins flirtatiously at me. There is no doubt that he is handsome, but my hormones are adamantly unresponsive.

"I live with him." And I shrug.

"Hm." He frowns slightly.

"Don't even try it, she's too stubborn," Rose says nonchalantly and rises. I rise with her. "Bye." She flashes that dazzling, model smile.

"Bye." I blush and utter meekly.

Alice meets up with us at the bridal dress store. Annabel is in her arms. The store is a sea of white and fabric as the four of us nestle into the dressing room vicinity.

"Say hi to Aunt Bella." She coos to her baby and hands her off to me. I cradle the small, blonde child in my arms and her blue eyes blink at me.

"Where's Jasper?" Rose perches on the sofa, champagne in hand, awaiting her dress.

"He couldn't get off work so I brought Bel." Alice shrugs and flits over to her side.

"She's getting big." I comment and bounce her a bit. She giggles.

"Yes she is. So Alice, I did the shoot today."

"And?" Her inadvertent boss asks, intrigued.

"It went well. Colin was hitting on Bella though."

"What? That brunet model?" Alice questions.

"Yep." She pops the _p_.

"Oh, he's handsome," Alice giggles. "But you didn't do anything to hurt my brother, did you?"

"Of course not," My eyes grow wide with fury. "I was perfectly well kempt."

"Although you shouldn't have been. He's good looking and besides, you need to get Edward back for what he did to you." Rose scoffs.

"I think he's redeeming himself." Alice defends her brother.

I stay neutral and glance down at my goddaughter. She grins and me, and suddenly, something within the pit of my belly stirs.

Maternal instinct. I immediately long for a child to call my own, and I am thrown into a surreal world of longing. The invisible, biological clock within me ticks, yet it slows, slows so severely that I think the clock has stopped. _No_, I think. I want to run, fueled by desire, for the clock that is nowhere to be found. There is a light, and my feet are not on the ground. I hear Edward call my name, but every which way I turn, he is not there. _You didn't agree to marry him_. He's gone, just as the clock. I want a husband. I want a child. I want a family. My instinct of nature mocks me as I, a woman of twenty-six, am still empty. I should have a baby in my belly, but I gaze down at it to find it taut. To find the clock no longer ticking. To find Edward gone forever.

"Bella! Bella! Bella!" I hear, but I am at the bottom of an ocean.

"Bella! Bella! Bella!" I hear, but I am dead without a child.

"Bella! Bella! Bella!" I hear, and I submerge.

"Bella, are you all right?" Alice, Annabel within her arms, and Rose glance anxiously at me. I'm laying on the sofa.

"What?" I croak.

"You just teetered backward." Alice says gravely and glances around.

"Let's get you home." Rose issues softly.

**EPOV**

Elizabeth and I have just finished setting up the apartment.

"Thanks for your help." I grin as I survey the transformed living arrangements.

"No problem." She smiles with fatigue.

"The only issue is that you'll be bothered with all this." I intake the corner of the kitchen, which has been transformed into a restaurant. The bouquet waiting in our room, the petals on the den's sofa.

"No," She laughs and gingerly touches her head. "I'll be sleeping."

"She should be home any minute now." I smile lightly and she hops up from the swiveling stool.

"Great. Everything wears me out these days."

"Well what are you taking?"

"I prefer Valium," She chokes a laugh and hobbles toward her room. "Boy, it's a trip. Good luck, Edward."

"Goodnight, Elizabeth."

She retires to her room as I nestle myself into the den. I hum to abide time, but then my phone rings.

"Edward." My sister greets.

"Hello, Alice." I return the greeting.

"Are you at work?"

"No, I got off early. I'm at the apartment setting some stuff up for Bella."

She sighs. "I'm driving her home. I don't think she feels too well." Concern cakes her trilling voice and I jump off the sofa in alarm.

"What happened? Is she okay? Alice, what?" I spill as I pace.

"I think she's fine now, calm down. She just had to lie down for a bit."

"Where are you?" I brush a hand through my hair.

"Calm down! I'm on my way to dropping her off now. Just have her lie down – or do you want me to call Dad?"

"Ask her." I already know the answer. There is some shuffling and muffled voices before Alice gets back on the phone.

"She says no." Obviously.

"Jesus," I sigh. "Just bring her home to me, please."

"Will do, Commander Cool."

Ten minutes later, Alice drops Bella off at the apartment. After a quick cradling session with my niece, I envelop Bella into an embrace.

"Hi." I smile into her hair. I've ached for her all day.

She doesn't respond verbally, but she wraps her arms tighter around my waist. It's unnervingly silent and I rock her with my one damn arm.

"What's wrong?" I ask softly.

She muffles into my chest. "IwasjusttiredbutIfeelokaynow."

"Are you hungry?" I lay my head on top of hers. She nods, face buried.

I drag her into the kitchen and seat her at the décor table accompanied by chairs. She smiles and rolls her eyes at the lit candles. I pour her wine.

"No drinking for you." She flashes that lovely smile.

"Sadly not." I sigh and seat myself across from her.

She sips the Chardonnay. "So what's the occasion?" Beneath the dimmed lights and flicker of the candles, Bella appears haggard.

"Think back to eight years ago." I lean forward on the table.

"Hmm," She murmurs and gulps some more. "A lot of things happened eight years ago."

"Be right back." I peck her and swiftly rise to retrieve the chicken and orecchiette pasta. "Food." I maneuver deftly with one hand. My skills pertaining to one-handedness have increased greatly over the past few weeks.

"Food." She grins. I distribute the meal onto our plates and plop the pan onto the center of the table.

"So guess." I issue as she spears chicken with her fork.

She chews carefully and swallows. "This is good. But well," She bites her lip. "Nothing comes to mind." Bonus points for Edward.

"You'll never believe what I remembered." I flash my crooked smile and she blushes that glorious shade of crimson.

"What?" She tilts her head.

"On this day eight years ago, I followed you to the forest."

There is silence as she reminisces. "I always think about that," She says quietly and my heart soars. I reach across the table and take her hand within my own. "Everything comes full circle." She murmurs.

I ponder. "I suppose it does." She gazes at me for a moment and I return the eye contact. The flame dances within her chocolate eyes, but at that moment, they brim.

She bursts into tears and I am on my feet.

"I love you." She folds into herself.

"God, oh, Bella. What happened?" I rush to her and wrap her up.

"Nothing. I just love you." Her crying doesn't cease and I brush her streaming tears with my fingers.

"Why are you crying?" I whisper, my fingertips lingering on her drenched cheekbones. She says nothing, but wraps her arms tightly around my neck.

"Don't leave me again." She sobs into my shoulder and I feel tears of my own pushing toward the edge.

"I won't. I'm so sorry. Bella, I won't." I choke and bury my face into her hair. Her tears are hot against my shirt and we sit like this for ages. Seconds, minutes, hours and years of our grief sits muddled in the kitchen of my apartment. The cumulative years have finally been unleashed and I have to push back the waterfall of anguish.

"Be right back." I pull away and kiss her so hard I think she will break.

When I return, she is still at the table. However, she's dabbing her face with a napkin.

"Hey," I shush her and take the napkin from her hands. "I love you, okay? I love you."

She nods and closes her eyes.

"I love you," I repeat for a thousandth time in a month. "So much that you kill me everyday."

"How?" Shock crosses her voice as she raises her head.

"You said no to me." I guise dejection.

"I didn't say no," She shakes her head. "I said maybe."

"Okay," I trod carefully. "How are you feeling, love?" It is a whisper as my face hovers near hers.

"I," She hiccups. "Am okay."

"You martyr." I laugh and pull her into me. She's curled up in my lap on the floor as I begin to hum her her ancient tune.

Bella cries softly into my chest as I croon her lullaby into the tresses of her mahogany hair.

"I'm sorry." I kiss the back of her neck.

"You're forgiven." She says in a small voice and my heart cries.

"Will you marry me?" I rest my head on her shoulder and fish out the smooth, velvet box. She squirms around in my lap, her eyes large as plates. I quickly scoot her off and scramble onto one knee, although she's on the floor. "Marry me, Isabella Marie Swan, and make me the happiest man in the world? I know I'm a screw-up, but I've been trying. You're my world, Elizabeth even pointed it out. God, I just love you so much and –" She crawls toward me and places a finger on my lips.

"Just shut up. I thought you'd never ask." She smiles gorgeously through tears and kisses me with a new type of hunger. After some time, I reluctantly pull away. I pop the ring box open.

"It's the same one," I wince and retrieve the ring from the box. "This box has been haunting me for too long. Hallelujah." I joke as I blindly fling it over my shoulder. I gingerly raise her hand and slide it onto her finger – where it should have been the past eight years.

"I love you." She declares joyously and I kiss the ring. Then, I pull her in again. Her hands are already unfastening the buttons to my shirt and here I am, shirtless, on the floor, proposing to the love of my life. Of course I would be. However, I believe in equality and work past the buttoning of her blouse as well.

Two hours later, in bed, I nip her ear.

"You're still just as good," She says raggedly and pulls me toward her. "Even with one arm."

"I'll take that as a compliment." I grin.

"You're amazing."

"As are you, my love." I delve in for more, and after who knows how long, there is stirring in the other room. We freeze and we roll off each other.

"Do you think… She…" Bella trails.

"No." I laugh.

However, we cautiously throw on towels and tiptoe into Elizabeth's room. She's fast asleep, her hair a wild mass as she turns and subconsciously sighs. We shut the door.

"Thank Heavens for Valium," Bella grins and I push her against the wall. "And thank Heavens for round two."

* * *

**Thanks for reading! Haha, hoped you liked the cameo FreeHell**

**The next chapter will be the last one! But no worries, there will be a sequel so don't flame**

**me if everything isn't wrapped up either A) perfectly B) at all**

**Again, thank you so so much :)**

**kisses, JennyCullen44**


	25. Legally In Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight or My Sister's Keeper**

**Author's Note: All dresses in profile**

* * *

****

_"Our wrangling lawyers . . . are so litigious and busy here on earth, that I think they will plead their clients' causes hereafter, some of them in hell."_

_ - _Robert Burton_, Anatomy of Melancholy--Democritus to the Reader_

**EPOV – 2 Weeks Later**

"Give it." Emmett demands with an outstretched hand.

"I think you've had enough." Jasper intones and keeps the silver flask pressed against his chest.

"One more." The groom begs, his childish face pleading.

"_One_." His best man mutters. Emmett retrieves the flask heartily and shamelessly guzzles its contents.

"Wait," He mumbles incoherently and evades Jasper's oncoming hand. "Be a good man."

"You're cut off." He shoots for the whiskey but fails as Emmett maneuvers.

"Oh come on. The poor sap is getting married," I yawn and imperturbably fidget with my cufflinks. "Let him get his final drinks in before he condemns himself to the last, legal form of slavery."

"Edward," Emmett begins to guffaw. "Is so correct." He brings the flask back to his lips and uses his raised shoe to fend off Jasper. Jazz smacks the underside of his loafer, causing a sputtered laugh from Emmett and a bark from Sam.

"I was not this bad on _my _day." Jasper rolls his eyes.

"I'll be." I joke and slouch into the embroidered chair.

"No you won't," He refutes with a glance. "You love Bella."

"I do." I confirm.

"Are you going to propose to her?" He asks while mitigating against Emmett, who now how both legs in the air.

"We'll see," I smile coyly. "I do love her. Very much. However, I'm not sure if these things should be rushed… maybe we'll wait ten years," I chuckle to myself. Ah, a self inside joke. "Although that would be ridiculous because we'd be cheating ourselves out of tax breaks for a decade."

Jasper laughs. "Ten years? Such an Edward response."

"I'm putting money you want to wait until that cast comes off." Emmett booms and I raise an eyebrow.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you need to look sharp and dapper on your Big Day, you sexy thing." He winks at me and I chuckle.

"You're so bestial," I tease. "I'll marry Bella if she'll have me as her husband." I murmur, evading a direct answer. Sam trots over to me and I pat his head.

"Then propose to her." Jasper muses.

"I'm poor." I joke.

"Right, because you essentially own half this city." We laugh in unison.

"See, Cullen is good like that. He does love Bella, he's just being evasive," Emmett shakes a finger while guzzling. "I can't say the same for myself."

"You're just a buffoon. We both know you love Rosalie." Jasper grunts as Emmett kicks his palm.

"Yeah, I do." He screws the lid back onto the flask and tosses it at him.

"Good. You'll be marrying her in a half hour." I grin and prop my legs onto another chair.

"Agh," He moans. "I love her but I'm not too inclined to the whole ball and chain deal. My freedom, my liberty!"

"Well you proposed to her." Jasper scowls and plops into the seat next to mine.

"Yes. Because I want to marry her."

"You're vacillating." Jazz points out.

"Leave it be," I scratch the back of my neck. "This is Emmett we're discussing. His logic will lead us nowhere."

Both men guffaw. "Truth."

"Essentially." He shrugs with a glinting beam.

"So what now?" I torpidly prop my elbow onto the arm of the chair.

"We count down the minutes until I am no longer a free man." Emmett grins.

"It's not so bad," Jasper mimics my position on the chair and unscrews the flask's lid. He takes a swig. "Are you going to have children?"

"That's a million dollar question," Emmett throws his tie over his right shoulder. "I don't know."

"Have you discussed it?" Jazz questions and offers me the flask. I wave him off.

"Not really," Emmett sighs. "I suppose I wouldn't _mind_ popping a few. I grew up in a big family."

"Does she want them?"

Emmett roars with laughter. "_Of course_. This is _Rosalie_. She probably feeds me alien supplements to up my sperm count."

"Then she's going to retire from modeling." I absentmindedly flick the plaster of my cast.

"Only if she gets pregnant." Emmett corrects.

"Your tiny Irish babies running around… That'll be the day." Jasper sighs.

"I'll make an army."

"I think we should brainstorm their children." I grin.

"Beautiful. Brawny. Intelligent. Nobel Peace Prize recipients." Emmett declares.

"Beautiful – only if they had Rose's looks." Jasper muses.

"Concurred." I intone nonchalantly.

"Assholes." He chuckles.

"Well, gentlemen, we have brainstorming to do. So, what is Rose? German? Swiss? She can't be that naturally blonde unless she's either of the two." I cup my neck.

"Uh, German? I think."

"You think?"

"I'm pretty sure her last name is old, old Germanic. Hale? Yeah? Let's go with that." He shrugs and I raise my eyebrows.

"I'm astonished you know this much." I muse and he flips the finger.

"Of course, I do." He chuckles heartily.

"Then your children will either be very blonde, very freckled or very, very, _very_ impressive drinkers with that mixture of Irish and German blood."

"I'm going to train them."

"To drink?" Jasper laughs.

"_Yes_. They'll have training sessions in the backyard. I can see it now: Rose doing whatever it is Moms do and I, the grand and all powerful teacher and ruler of drinking games, passing my skills unto my kin."

"You're absurd," I shake my head in laughter. "But that's so typical."

"Edward thinks I'm joking," Emmett directs to Jasper. "Why don't we discuss what his and Bella's kids will be like?"

"Smart." Jazz issues.

"Not as good as drinking as mine." Emmett declares.

"I may not hold marathons in my backyard, but I'll teach them a thing or two."

"Not if you're married to Bella."

I throw my head back in hilarity. "Too true."

"If you have a daughter, can I teach her how to truly experience high school?" Emmett fires the rhetorical question.

"I won't bother wasting my breath on that."

"_If_ you let her out of the house." Jasper yawns and Emmett grins.

"I can't wait. _Please_ have a daughter so I can corrupt her."

"Piss off."

"He already has that one girl. His client." Jasper drums his fingers against the flask, the metal reverberating softly.

"It's not the same. I need his _daughter_ to hide under my wing."

I pause. "I'm trying to think of something sardonic and caustic to rebuttal with, but what makes you so certain I'm going to have children? Or marry Bella at all?"

Jasper and Emmett exchange glances. "Good one, Edward."

"What?"

"That's humorous. Really, bravo. You should consider a profession in the comedic field."

"Bella and I haven't even _discussed_ children." I refute.

Emmett slouches in the grandiose ivory seat. "Yeah you're right, Jazz. They'll be too smart. Good, keep them away from my kids. They don't need your spawn's influence."

"I love how my unborn children have been demoted to spawn."

"Y'all are being ridiculous –" Jasper impedes.

"Thank you, Jasper."

"It's _apparent_ Annabel trumps your children." He continues.

"Oh, well she destroys Emmett's to quite a degree. She's my niece, of course I would agree to some extent. However, she'll have to settle for silver." I grin.

"So you admit you'll have children." Jasper snaps his pallid fingers.

I sigh. "Alice would want Annabel to have play dates, wouldn't she?"

"And who would the mother be?" Jazz grins and I scowl elusively.

"What background are you, Edward?" Emmett asks and I chuckle.

"Surely my name is the prime example of an Anglo-Saxon origin."

"_Obviously_, but you can't be entirely English."

"I'm also French." I muse.

"Really? Did you know that, Jazz?" Emmett raises his eyebrows.

"I'm married to his sister, you ingenious creature." After exchanged chuckles, Jasper and I turn back to the baffled groom.

"My mother dropped the accent in her name." I explain.

"What?"

"Traditionally, there is an accent above the second _e_. Esmé." I twist my forefinger through the air, tracing an invisible _accent aigu_.

"So your Fritalienglish children will be better than _mine_?" He languorously crosses his ankles. "I think not."

"Well discuss this another time." I scowl and innocuously avert my glance to the door. There are two sharp raps against the stained glass, and it is Jasper who reaches the thick, mahogany door.

"Yes?" He issues, his Southern drawl inconspicuously wafting.

"Is Emmett in here?" A chiseled, older, haggard man lumbers in past Jasper's shoulder. Yet with him follows a cloud of rigidity. The splay of pepper and dark brown curls, the lines of decades worth of fossilized laughter lining his eyes indicate that this is the father of the jester we've grown to adore.

When he strides in, an unnamed emotion streaks across Emmett's face. "Hey Pop." He greets in a hollow tone and rises to grasp his father's hand.

"Emmett," He greets with a shake and an empty smile. He dons a deep blue suit with polished penny loafers. "Boy, I gotta tell you, congratulations. Never thought I'd see the day." The father splays a wary grin.

"Proved you wrong." Emmett chuckles strangely, placing his hands on his hips before the aged, vapid version of himself.

"I mean," The older version stuffs his hands into his pockets and issues a strained, piercing whistle. "What a keeper."

"I know, Pop." Emmett's eyes twinkle at the thought of Rosalie. There is a bit of a silence as the two men shuffle uncomfortably in front of the other, avoiding eye contact.

"So, how've you been?" The elder finds the paint job of the ceiling to be particularly fascinating.

"Good… Yes, I've been good," Emmett responds in an odd tone. "And you?"

"I've been fine." He continues to gaze at the ceiling.

"Been taking care of yourself, Dad?" He fidgets with his collar.

"As well as someone can take care of themselves." He shrugs.

"Oh. I'm sure that… Nevermind." Emmett trails and finally brings himself to gaze at his haunted father.

"So, I got a glimpse of Rose." He evades.

"And?" Emmett smiles, half-strained, half-genuine.

"She's a pretty little lady. I'm proud that my boy is marrying a fine woman like that." There is a rouse of chuckles around the room, yet the tension resurfaces. And then more silence.

"Your mother would have been proud too." The graying Emmett Sr. finally murmurs. All twinkling ceases. The mood stirs and the younger of the two scarcely tilts his head upward then back down. There are no more jesters in the room.

"Yeah." Emmett's mouth opens as far as one word would be allowed. The space between his lips mashes shut hardly an eye's blink after the beat of the word. The subsequent silence permeates the canvas awaiting the splattered words of conversation, creating a haze of tension.

Before the haze settles, I clear my throat. "Hello, Sir. I'm Edward Cullen." I display an affable smile as I redirect Emmett from the embrace of melancholy affairs on his wedding day.

Under alternate lighting, some of the lines around his eyes now appear as repercussions of perpetual fatigue. "Huh? Oh, hello Edward," His father snaps out of a quasi trance, nods and grips my outstretched hand. "Say, what happened to your arm there?" His wandering, glazed eyes finally graze my cast. Emmett shoots me a grateful glance; one of the intermittent occasions I will end up seeing him exhibit this echelon of vulnerability.

"I was in an automobile accident a few months back…"

"Right. That's right. You're that lawyer." He grunts and looks me in the eye, although this man is not truly there. Sam whines as I shift.

"Hey, Pop. I like your suit. It's nice." Emmett intercedes. His father vacuously glances down at the lapels of his jacket and smoothes them once, twice.

"Oh, well, you know. Heidi got it for me." He responds and wipes a hand across his line-caked eyes.

"Oh." Emmett issues simply, wrinkling his nose slightly.

"How is she?" Jasper plasters on a prosthetic smile, following my lead in reining conversation from evidently unwelcome topics.

"What?" Emmett's father looks up. "Oh. Good. Yeah, she's good, Jasper." He mutters, partially distracted.

"Good to hear," Jasper presses his lips together and nods once. "Is she here?" Emmett Sr.'s eyes snap to attention and flicker briefly with an unknown emotion.

"Oh. Yes. She's outside. I figure it'd be better if she went and found a seat already." He abstractly scuffs the heel of his loafer against the wooden trimming of the room.

"Good idea." Emmett strains his normally natural amicability. Jasper and I exchange apprehensive glances. Another layer of silence falls across the room and the four of us all avert our gazes elsewhere.

"I think I'll find her," His father finally says. "I'll wait outside to escort you... I'm proud of you, Em." The latter is said tenderly yet sadly. I wonder to myself how infrequently his accumulated laugh lines are utilized.

"Thanks." Emmett murmurs. The older version opens his mouth to speak once more, but no words come out. Another moment of silence, and the physical equivalent of Emmett turns on his heel before shutting the door behind him.

He sighs and closes his eyes. "You okay?" I question, concerned with the stone-faced Emmett before me.

"I'm fine." He mutters and warily runs a hand through his plethora of curls.

"Are you sure?" Jasper demands.

"I said I'm _good_." He growls, opens his eyes and slumps back down into the ivory seat.

"How about a drink?" I intone cheerfully and Emmett glances up at me.

"Works for me," He sits up straighter, reigniting a spark; that spark of humor Emmett carries. He catches the silver flask and takes a swig. "Christ," He wipes his mouth and the spark dies once more. "You know what? I wish Heidi didn't come. She's the biggest joke of a trophy wife I've ever seen. I wouldn't let her escort me. Ever." He spits bitterly.

"This is your day, Emmett." I remind sternly.

"Right," He closes his eyes and sighs. "She just… I have nothing wrong with my Dad… I…It's she…" He runs a hand through his tangle of curls. "I just sometimes think how badly my Mom would resent him for remarrying."

"I'm sorry..." I stare hard at my shoes. They're polished. Glossy. There's a creased line near the seam on the right one, despite the fact they're brand new. They were expensive. They nearly distract me, until I notice the reflection of my chagrin.

"I mean, would you remarry if Bella died? Alice?" He chokes a laugh. Prosthetic and fake, ringing through the room before you wonder if it's real. A cartoon laugh. "I wouldn't if it were Rose. Especially not if my child was _five_," He spits and abruptly stands from the seat. "He tries to forget she's dead. But you can't forget, even if you're screwing and proposing to the gold digging neighbor four months later. Life commitment my ass."

"Emmett –"

"Stop." He growls. Jasper and I stand astonished, finally witnessing the rare bulldozer effect which ultimately took Seattle's liveliest joker down. There is a silence.

"Well shit," Emmett smacks his lips and tosses the flask at Jasper. "_I've_ got a girl to commit to for life out there. Are you two coming, or what?"

…………

"He was quite accurate on the whole ball and chain situation." Jasper snickers into my ear. We direct our attention to Emmett's face, just as Wagner's March rings on. A thousands balls and a thousand chains bind this man to his evident love and infatuation for his future wife, several strides away. Emmett's eyes are pools of affection, his mouth unhinged. All evidence of his familial tiff earlier has disappeared from the vicinity. A wave of low chuckles washes over the audience as we all glance back at the awaiting groom.

"The poor bastard." I mutter and Jasper sniggers. Rose, in a sea of ruffled white, glides forward. She clenches her bouquet and peers out from under her eyelashes, through the mesh of her ivory veil. I glance across the altar at Bella, who stands modestly as a Maid of Honor. I catch her eye and she briefly flashes me a gorgeous smile. Alice stands behind her, Annabel in an interwoven basket of white and gold.

"_Hi_." I mouth to Bella across the altar.

She glances around before mouthing "_Hey_." Rose places a foot onto the first step as the organ continues.

"_You look beautiful._" I enunciate each word meticulously, ensuring she understands my silent comment.

"_Thanks._" She laughs silently, angelically. _"You look handsome."_

"_Thank you_." I wink and she blushes a shade of pink. Rose now reaches the top of the steps and aligns herself across from an emotional Emmett. The priest thumbs his way through his book.

"Dearly beloved," He booms. "We are gathered here today to witness the joining matrimony of Emmett Paul McCarthy and Rosalie Lillian Hale." Emmett grins as he gently peels the veil from Rose's face.

"_Guess what?_" I mouth over to Bella, who, after glancing at Emmett and Rose, tilts slightly so she can view me better.

"_What?"_ She muses with depth in her chocolate eyes.

"_I love you." _A twinkle appears in those eyes before she bites her lip and ducks her head.

"Mr. McCarthy," The priest impedes. "Would you please say your vows?" He gestures with his hand and Emmett clears his throat. He pulls out a crumbled sheet of paper, laden with an abundance of black cross-outs and scribbles. After smoothing the creases of his vows, he briefly meets Rose's gaze and commences.

"Rosalie Lillian Hale," Emmett inhales and continues gazing in the shining eyes of his bride-to-be. "You should probably know by now that I'm crazy about you. There is nothing I don't adore about you. I love the way you crinkle your nose when you sneeze. I love the way you obsessive compulsively keep your things on the right side of the bathroom. I love the way you can light up a room with that model contract smile of yours," He pauses to grin. "I love the way you bare your teeth when you smack me on the backside of the head. And I love how you make me a better person. I had no idea I could feel this way about someone, even if you did chase me around with a spatula because I accidentally set your favorite shirt on fire," There is a round of low chuckles from the attendees. "Also, it kind of really sucks that Bella moved out because she was a killer cook, but babe! Babe, you're just as good," Rose smiles through narrowed eyes. "What aren't you good at? I love you so much and I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if it means I'll be old and decrepit while you're still running around the nursing home staging a coup. So this is my ode to you, my sweet Goddess, and I hope you'll be mine until the end of time, or at least until we're victims of the zombie apocalypse. Even then, I won't blow your head off."

Rosalie emits a silent giggle as she rolls her eyes. The attendees are chuckling within their sleeves, including Jasper and I. Bella and Alice exchange amused glances as Emmett continues to beam. Even the priest appears partially amused.

"And you, Ms. Hale?" He turns to Rosalie with composure. She retrieves her vows, which is folded neatly and meticulously. After unfolding the four squares, she closes her eyes and sighs deeply.

"Emmett Paul McCarthy, I will say it point blank: you are an imbecile," Emmett grins, his brown eyes crinkling. "However, you are the smartest imbecile I know, and not only that, you are _my _imbecile. I remember the first time I met you. It was a Friday night, three years ago, and I thought you were the sorriest sap I'd ever seen. When you approached my table, reeking of alcohol, I figured _oh boy_. But I went out with you regardless, and I'll be truthful here: that's because I thought you had the cutest dimples I'd ever seen. It's the dimples. Thank your genes for that," The audience chuckles lightly and Emmett continues to grin. "Ah, but I need to be serious here. No matter how silly you are, the fact of the matter is that I'm in love with you. Not only are you my soul mate, you are my best friend as well. It's a complete package deal: I'm in love with my closest friend. The person who knows me best in the world, who can make me laugh and who can drive me mental," She smiles. "When you asked me to marry you, I made a secret vow that I would tolerate your XBOX addiction – out of pure happiness!" The audience chuckles once more. "You may be insane, but aren't we all? I hope you can make me laugh a thousand times more, until we're both gone. Always and forever."

Emmett's eyes twinkle as Bella and Alice exchange silent glances and the telepathic, feminine message of _oh, how romantic_.

"Do you, Mr. McCarthy, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? To cherish and to hold? To love her, to comfort her, to honor and to keep her? To care for in sickness and in health? Forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live? Until death do you part?" The priest scratches his balding head.

"I do." Emmett booms and Rose's lips curve into a smile.

"And do you, Ms. Hale, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? To cherish and to hold? To love her, to comfort her, to honor and to keep her? To care for in sickness and in health? Forsaking all others, be faithful to her, as long as you both shall live? Until death do you part?"

"I do." She chirps.

"Then by the power invested in me, you may kiss the bride." Emmett beams and wraps his arms around Rose's delicate waist. They both lean in for a kiss, meeting somewhere in the middle. Applause, cheers and whistles erupt when they part, both of them glowing that brand new aura of matrimony.

**BPOV**

"So how do we tell them?" I tilt my head while readjusting his bowtie. He idly exhales, the sound resonating throughout the empty lobby.

"You tell me." He raises the corner of his mouth.

I sigh. "I don't know. I was never one to enjoy public fusses."

"Ah, I know." He murmurs and pecks my temple the moment my fingers fall from his collar.

"Well?" I muse as I grudgingly adjust his sling.

"Well, to begin with, I think that you need to stop fidgeting with me," He smirks and I bite my lip. "And second, let's just… tell them."

"Tell them?" I raise my eyebrows. "

"What will happen? I'm sure no one will mind much attention to it. After all, it is _the_ Mr. and Mrs. McCarthy wedding reception. Do you have any idea how humorously intoxicated everyone will be? I'm betting Emmett invested in fountains spewing tequila."

I throw my head back in laughter. It bounces off the walls, laying flat in the atmosphere. "Of course, he did. But no drinking." I shake my finger at him. He scowls, that perfect countenance twisting into disapproval.

"An awful restriction, if you ask me." I readjust the band of my floor-length dress.

"Do you want to die?" I cross my arms and Sam licks the back of my fingers.

"Not particularly." "And I don't want you to, either." I mutter and scratch the German Sheppard's head. Edward splays that crooked smile before fingering the chain of my necklace. The icy touch of his fingertips trail down my neck, twiddling the thin, delicate chain. And finally, he reaches the trinket hanging from the bottom. It glints luminously under the lobby lights, and I study his face as he studies my ring.

"I wish you would wear it." He says dejectedly.

"When we tell them." I promise and gently wind his free hand in my own.

"I think we should wait until Alice is drunk." He grazes his lips across my knuckles and drops my hand. I ponder this for a moment, raising my eyes to the ceiling.

"I concur." I finally issue.

"And we know it won't take too long." He rolls his eyes and I giggle.

"Stop, you're terrible." I twitch my lips and he interlaces his fingers within my own once more.

"And?" He tugs lightly and we walk, side by side, past the double-sided doors. As we glide through, the oozing, sweet aroma of wine accompanied by baked appetizers fill my nostrils. Strings of a symphony waft as I spot our quasi-clan at a far right table. Edward spotting them as well, leads Sam and I through a weaving maze of reception guests.

"Comrades," Edward greets with a glorious grin as we approach the round table. "Mind if we join you?" A chorus of _no's_ and a sea of white grins follow. Alice, donning a teal, one-shouldered, floor-length dress is already sipping a martini, her raven locks braided into an intricate bob of weaves.

"Bella," She grins after gnawing the olive. "You look _amazing_. You dressed yourself tonight?" I blush profusely and the table chuckles as I clumsily slump into my seat.

"I did." I murmur and glance over at Rose, who wears a floor-length, light pink strapless dress.

"Congratulations!" I chirp and her face lights up.

"Thanks, Bell."

"Yes, congratulations to you both." Edward extends to both Rose and Emmett. They flash smiles.

As the night continues and the more drinks we pound, the less equilibrium I possess over reality.

"Are you sure you called her?" I clasp the arm of Edward's tuxedo, my face painted in worry.

"Yes, love. I called her earlier, Elizabeth is absolutely fine." He assuages and airlessly trails fingers down my arm.

"All right." I sigh and sip my vodka. Our friends chatter incessantly, Emmett becoming increasingly boisterous as he ups his BAC count.

"Will you dance with me?" Edward finally reaches my hands and squeezes my fingers.

"I'm wearing heels." I raise my eyebrows and silently assess the wave of tipsiness washing over me.

"It's all in the leading." He rises and pulls me up with him. Of course, I stumble and sway into his chest, his free hand clutching the small of my back.

"Did you see that?" I scowl and Emmett chuckles.

"Fabulous, Bell. But really, try not to break yourself out there – I don't want to visit you in the hospital on my wedding night."

"I _won't_." I state triumphantly.

On the dance floor, swaying is the only form of dancing my clumsiness, my increasing intoxication, and the limited limbs Edward possesses allows. His arm snakes around my waist as I return the same around his neck, our proximity causing flurries against my ribcage.

"I love you." I finally say after gazing in his eyes for some time.

"I love you more." He tilts his forehead against mine.

"Are we okay now?" I murmur as he swings my body around. "After all these years?"

"Of course," He says softly. "That's behind us now."

"New slate?" I run my right fingers through his bronze tresses.

"Completely new." He coos. We continue to dance for some time before he retracts his forehead from mine.

"What?" I blink.

"Nothing." He shakes his head and murmurs.

"What?" I repeat once more and he stops movement. We stand in the middle of the dance floor, our bodies pressed together as blurs of couples whir by in the background.

"Bella…" He begins. "Have you thought about something?"

"Thought about what?" I tilt my head upward and gaze into those pools of emerald.

"…Children." He finally mumbles. I pause, my partially intoxicated mind spinning with thoughts. I furrow my brow and absentmindedly twirl a lock of his hair.

"I have." I admit.

"Have you ever thought about us? And children?"

I too, ponder this. "Yes," A smile begins to creep up my lips. "Didn't I promise you however many years ago that we would have a chubby baby and a beach house?"

"So let's make a compromise," A smile also begins to form on him. "You provide me with the former and I'll give you the latter."

"Hmm…" I murmur and coyly avert my gaze to the ceiling. "Good compromise." I finally agree and he cranes downward to press his cool lips against my forehead.

**EPOV**

Dancing, one-armed, with a sloppy newlywed is potentially entertaining. However, not when she holds a vendetta against you. Rose giggles, her platinum curls bouncing as her arms are around my neck.

"How's marriage?" I smile and she grins.

"Great. Although I've been married for several hours." We swing around the dance floor as my sober frame supports her dwindling-in-sobriety-one.

"Wonderful." It's silent for a moment before she hums to herself.

"So when are you going to propose to Bella?" She slurs.

"Pardon?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Answer my question, Romeo." She giggles.

"Only if you answer one of mine."

"Sure."

"Why do you dislike me so much?" I muse and her countenance forms a pout.

"I _don't_."

"You did for several years." I laugh as we twirl about.

"Yeah," She blurts but then pauses. A flash of remorse treks across her glazed eyes, but then she shrugs slightly. "Because you hurt her. But I guess you've redeemed yourself."

"Ah."

"So answer mine." She smiles wickedly. I ponder this for a moment, and decide that I will grant her the truth in exchange for her own, honest answer.

"Well," I begin slowly. "Can you keep a secret?"

"I'm an excellent secret keeper." She shakes her head up and down.

"But you're not exactly sober, so do you promise?" I enunciate my words and she giggles.

"_I promise_, Edward." I lean in toward her ear.

"I already did." I whisper airlessly.

"_What?_" She shrieks. "Oh my God!"

"Shush." I demand and she snaps her mouth shut.

"Oh my God," She repeats, her eyes pooling with thought and intoxication. "You guys will have the _best_ looking babies."

I throw my head back in laughter as we continue swaying. "Thank you, Rosalie. But please, I beg of you, don't tell anyone yet. Especially Alice." She nods vigorously.

"Of course." We continue to dance silently before I play Devil's advocate.

"You and Emmett will have attractive children as well."

Her eyes light up. "I hope. I want them," She sighs. "I don't think he does."

"He does, though." I nod and her eyes grow wide.

"_Really?_ Have you talked to him? Really?" She bounces in my one-armed embrace and I chuckle.

"Yes, I've spoken to him."

"You are the _best_. _The best_! How could I have ever hated you?" She ceases her movement to throw her arms tighter around my neck.

"How could you have not?" I smile.

_One hour later…_

**BPOV**

"You," Emmett slams a hand down and chugs his twelfth shot of tequila. "Are engaged."

"Nu uh!" I counter and crinkle my eyes in laughter.

"Don't even deny it, doll," He guffaws. "You _are_. What's that on your neck?" He points to my necklace and I quickly glance down.

"Nothing." I giggle drunkenly.

"Nada, nada, nada. Lies, woman." He slaps the table once more, shaking the glasses atop.

"_Fine_," I roll my eyes and lap up my glass of Chardonnay. "I am."

"What?" Edward raises his eyebrows and splays a coy smile.

"Yes, I'm engaged! To you!" I giggle and tug at his tie. Oh, the glorious effects of alcohol.

"And this is how you're announcing it?" He muses as I draw him nearer to me.

"Yeah." I sloppily plant a kiss on his nose.

"So cute. Ah," Emmett pops a hors d'oeuvre in his mouth. "I called it."

"No, I did." Jasper yawns and throws back some Smirnoff.

"Are you kidding?" Alice snips and drums the table. "I'm completely omniscient. This is my ball field, get out."

"You're so handsome. _So_ handsome." I coo into Edward's angular face, my alcoholic breath mingling with his own. He laughs heartily.

"Oh, Bella. My sweet Bella, how I love it when you drink."

"No, man. No," Emmett shakes his head and packs another shot. "I knew it. You were engaged… I knew it. I knew it and I can win because it's my big day." He tipsily attempts to reason and ramble. I giggle and cup my hands around Edward's face.

"Can we let Emmett win?" I pout and he nods his face within my hands.

"We can let him win. But do tell me, how did you _know_?" He squirms his face within my grasp and raises an eyebrow at Emmett.

"I don't know. I'm drunk. Yipeekiyay, bitch."

"Do you know what it's like to be sober and sitting with all of you fine, drunken people?" Edward grins and I finally release his face. In exchange, he grasps my hands.

"I don't know, but it must be absolutely _terrible_." Alice peals and sips from martini #207.

"Just about." Edward mutters and I frown.

"Don't be sad! Stupid medication." I pout and his lips break out into a glorious smile.

"I'm not sad, love."

"Good." I squeal and splay a grin. He leans in for a kiss, his lips softer than usual against mine. The timing lasts longer than usual as well.

"Break it up, break it up. My eyes, they can't handle it. My virgin eyes." Emmett wails and we pull apart.

"_Virgin eyes_?" Jasper rolls his eyes and Alice peals in laughter.

"Damn, everything is so funny right now."

"Be quiet." I giggle and yawn sleepily.

"So Bella," Alice pokes my shoulder. "Announce it, already!" I gaze quizzically at her but then throw my hand on Edward's knee.

"Oh!" I squeak. "Everyone, Edward and I are engaged…"

"As of two weeks ago." He finishes for me.

"Aaaayyyyyy!" Emmett raises his arms, football touchdown style.

"Congratulations." Jasper slurs.

"_What?_ Two _weeks_ ago? Why didn't you tell me, Bella? Edward? Jesus, you two are such isolates." Alice snaps.

"Ask Bella." Edward shrugs and I scowl at him.

"I… I just don't like making big deals out of anything."

She narrows her eyes. "Fine."

"I still love you, Alice." I squeal and she peals as well.

"Best friends."

Edward's green eyes widen. "That was quick."

"What?"

"Alice's burst of anger." He muses.

"It's the martinis," She shrugs and sips from her glass before planting a sloppy, wet kiss on her brother's cheek. "Congratulations, little brother."

"You're only older by two minutes." He scowls and she grins after retracting.

"So? And congratulations to you too, Bell." She bounds up from her seat, nearly planting her face, to flit toward my seat. Alice wraps her thin, ivory arms around my neck and plants a similar kiss on my cheek.

"Welcome to the family. _Finally_. Oh God, wow. _Finally_." She slurs mushily and I giggle.

"Thank you."

"Bella," Edward interrupts yet Alice keeps her arms entwined from behind me. She turns her head to face her twin, her cheek laden atop my locks of hair. "May I?" He gestures toward the silver chain hanging from my neck and Alice retracts amicably. I nod, grinning, and he rises to stand behind my chair. After brushing my hair aside, his slender fingers caress the back of my neck and unclasp the chain. Miraculously, I catch it before it reaches my lap, the pile of silver weaving around the ring in my palm. I gaze up at the love of my life. Slowly and carefully, he retrieves the ring from my palm, eliminating the chain onto the table. The eyes of our friends are on us as he fiddles with the ring, turning it this way and that before sliding it onto my left hand.

"It's official." He murmurs, still holding my hand. Our friends all erupt in applause, causing heads to turn from various places in the room.

"I love you." I repeat, crying out, as I pop up from the seat and stumble into his chest. He throws his head back in laughter, but when I tilt my head up to gaze into his eyes, I forget the presence of others.

"I love you." He whispers, our noses grazing.

"I can't wait to start my life with you." I raise my hands to hold his face.

"Start? We're not starting, we're picking up where we left off."

"I told myself I'd hate you forever." I grin.

"You're breaking your own rule." He chuckles and presses his hand against the small of my back.

"So what? Are we illegally in love?"

"If you weren't drunk, I'd consider that as a possibility."

"Sounds good. And remember our compromise." I smile, inches from his perfect face as he holds me.

"And I'll remember that, forever. Just as I never forgot you." He kisses me, so laced with saccharine that we would have continued until the sun rose. Until the world fell from the Milky Way. Until our bones turned to ash. Until humanity died out. Until, according to Emmett, the zombie apocalypse. Until, said Emmett, didn't pry us apart. Until everything illegal became wholly and at long last, legal.

* * *

**That's it. The last chapter. This was my first fic, and I am**

**so overwhelmed with the support I got. I had no idea that such wonderful**

**people like all of you would actually read the stuff that I write. It's very bittersweet...**

**This story was my child but at the same time, I'm glad it's done. But don't fret, there**

**will be a sequel. And hopefully you can all come and support that one too. Honestly,**

**you've been so amazing. Words cannot begin to capture my gratitude toward all of you. **

**Thank you from the bottom of my heart.**

**kisses** **always, JennyCullen44**


	26. Author's Note Sequel

Okay, I'll take my somewhat scathing author's note off :)

The sequel is up! It's called "A Life Sentence With You"

I couldn't think of anything else. Well thanks for sticking with me, guys!

Again, this was my first fanfic and I was so, so overwhelmed with the support.

kisses, JennyCullen44


	27. My Sister's Keeper

Sorry about the obnoxious email alert. But seriously, go see My Sister's Keeper in theatres. And then tell me what you think :D and how it compares! I'm not sure if I'll see it myself. I feel as if it was doomed from the start, perhaps because of the people they cast. Or I guess I'm just stubborn and won't be flexible for actors… Meh, oh well. The movie version is a tad different from Jodi Picoult's book, and well, drastically different from this fic. However, do tell me what you think. Happy reading, happy Summer.

**kisses, JC44**


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